


Confessions of a Male Escort

by Meh_forget_it



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: AU Season 4 SPN, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blasphemy, Bobby is sick of this shit, Crossover, Explicit Sexual Content, Humour, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lapsed Catholic!Harry, M/M, Mentor!Gabriel, Prophecy, Prostitute!Harry, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Religious Content, Sam Winchester Bashing, Torture, non-Chuck!God
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 40,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meh_forget_it/pseuds/Meh_forget_it
Summary: Unbeknownst to everyone, the wizarding world's prophecy had been made void millennia before it was even spoken. Long before even Voldemort was born, a different prophecy had been made. An ancient one created during The Fall in Heaven, and one the had far more reaching consequences should it fail. But will a failed wizard saviour turned prostitute be able to succeed in his new task?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings - SLASH! Gratuitous amounts of sex (hence the title), religious concepts, discussion of disturbing sexual fetishes, possible glamorisation of prostitution, insane angels, blasphemy, spoilers up to and including Season 4 (and some S5) of SPN and up to OotP of Harry Potter, possibly more, I'll add should they come up.
> 
> Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural. They belong to JK Rowling and Eric Kripke respectively and I am thus not making any money from this.
> 
> A/N - Before we start, I should just say that I've never claimed to be a poet and most certainly have never written a biblical prophecy. So I apologise. Heh. Also, the first couple of chapters don't really have all that many changes so you can probably skip over those. It's more once Dean comes out of Hell and the angels come into play that I've added more and changed bits. (If it helps, I'll add an authors note at the end of each chapter just to mention what was added/changed.)

** Confessions of a Male Escort (Re-Write) **

Prologue

_And thus is it written_

_That the Faithful Child of the Lord shall live_

_through hardship and hear breaking_

_But though his faith in The Almighty may_

_Waiver, it shall never be lost._

_And when the Righteous Man is close_

_To breaking_

_The Faithful Child will answer the call_

_And be given his redemption_

_For the Faithful Child will be the Guardian_

_Of the final seal_

_And his faith will be the only thing that may_

_Prevent the end of days_

_But shall the Faithful Child be pushed too far_

_And his faith made to break_

_Then the wrath of the Lord will be felt by all_

_And all will be lost._

Throughout Heaven, the sounds of mourning could be heard as the aftermath of the war between the angels was felt. Lucifer had been cast in Hell by Michael and many mourned the loss of the brightest and most beautiful of the archangels.

The three archangels remaining however were all mourning for the loss of their brother and, unknown to the rest of the angels, the loss of their Father.

But in a small forgotten corner of heaven, where no one rarely visited, one of the last prophecies of God was uttered and only two were witness to it. Joshua and Gabriel both silently listened to the last official message of their Father and knew that there was a reason they were the only ones to hear it.

Silently, they both decided to keep quiet about the last prophecy as they were aware of what the Fall of Lucifer really meant for humanity. And perhaps here was a small hope that perhaps their Father hadn't truly abandoned them and that there was soon to be someone that might even return their own faith.

However Gabriel was aware that it wold be millenia before there was even a whisper of either the Righteous Man or the Faithful Child and he knew there was no way he'd be able to stick around. He could already hear the whispers of hatred about his older brother and could see the ending of the mourning as more and more angels placed the blame for the war entirely on the shoulders of Lucifer.

He watched as Michael slowly became more and more distant from the Host as the pressure he felt over their absent father built and he watched as Raphael became colder and colder towards any who dared differ in his own thoughts.

Gabriel stuck around for a few centuries after the war, keeping an eye on the garrisons under his own watch and the few lone angels that would listen to his word as well as the word of their Father. Then, when he had made sure that those few he could trust would carry on doing what he asked them to do, Gabriel finally made a visit to the Garden to speak with Joshua about the prophecy.

"We shouldn't tell anyone."

"No. Keep an ear out for the Faithful Child?"

"I will. What will you do?"

"I'm leaving. But I'll make sure to keep an ear out for the Righteous Man and the Faithful Child."

"We at least have an idea of what line the former will be from. But we have no idea where the latter could come from. Perhaps, if you are leaving, you should be the one to look out for the Child. If I do, it may bring attention to him that we can't afford."

"Perhaps. I'll do it but I'll get word to you when I find him. They'll need an angel to watch over him. I'll send one of my loyal independents."

"Which one?"

"From the wording of the prophecy, I can think of a few that would be best matched with him. It'll be best to see what month he's born in."

"What if he's born in a month you don't have an angel watching over?"

"Hopefully, if I don't then Lucifer will have."

"You think that's wise?"

"We each shared, for lack of a better word, responsibility of the seraphs that Lucifer resided over. But regardless of which archangel the independents were given tasks by, they ultimately remained loyal to God only. They should be open to watching over our Father's last true child."

"You're an angel of forethought, Gabriel. Are you telling me that you have no idea what is to come?"

"Father gave me a message before he left. I'm following His message."

"Can you share it?"

"Not fully. Just know that I'm following His will."

"But you will still leave? Is that His will too?"

"I don't know. I doubt it. He never said anything to stop me though. I can't stay here, Joshua. I'm not like Raph or Mikey. I'm too wilful. I wasn't made for war. And it's only a matter of time before they start remembering that I was closest to Lucifer. That I was taught all I know by Lucifer."

"So you think it would be best to leave? Many will mourn you, Gabriel."

"Not all will think I've died."

"Most will though. I know what you've been doing since the war. I know the clues you've been leaving. Unless you tell them specifically, they will think you've died."

"I know. I've told a few trusted of my decision, including you."

"And these few, are they some of the ones you think would be suited to watch over the Faithful Child?"

"They are."

"Who will watch over the Righteous Man?"

"That is Mikey's decision to make, not mine."

"Fair enough. Are you leaving straight away?"

"Yes. Will you be okay, Joshua?"

"I believe so. I'm going to watch over the Garden. Just… if you can, let me know how you are occasionally. Goodbye, Gabriel."

"Goodbye, Joshua."


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

**Surrey. December 1988**

A small boy who couldn't be any older than four followed a family of three into the Catholic church of Little Whinging, silently looking around him at the stained glass windows and marble statues with a look of awe on his face, before shuffling onto the benches behind his family, being quick to cross himself before entering the pews like he noticed others in the church doing.

The little boy made himself as small as he could in the pew and listened to the priest as he performed the Christmas mass, listening with fascination as the man spoke about a God who loved his children, no matter what, and who sent his own son to spread his word.

And that four year old boy smiled and looked at his tatty trainers as warmth spread inside of him at the thought that somewhere out there, there was someone who loved him no matter what he did. That God didn't see him as a freak and maybe, God would be someone who listened to him. And it didn't matter if He didn't speak back, just the thought that there was _someone_ listening to him gave him hope and that was the moment where Harry Potter found his faith.

And thousands of miles away, a golden eyed man pauses in what he's doing, smiling as he realises that the Faithful Child has finally been found.

* * *

**Surrey. July 1989**

Harry glanced behind him as he ran as fast as he could towards somewhere he hoped would be safe, trying to see if Dudley and his gang were catching up on him. So far he seemed to be safely ahead, though he couldn't risk slowing down until he reached somewhere he had recently learnt meant sanctuary.

The newly turned five year old gave a slightly laboured sigh of relief as he saw St Peter and St Paul's church just ahead and managed to push a burst of speed until he reached the intimidating, heavy wooden doors and pushed them open with all his strength, giving a little yelp as they moved much easier than he had been expecting. Tumbling forward with nothing there to hold him up anymore, he winced as his hands painfully slapped onto the cold floor.

Hearing the sounds of Dudley and gang not too far away, Harry panicked and quickly picked himself up so he could close the doors, watching in shock as the doors slammed shut of their own accord. The loud bang echoed around the small narthex of the church and made Harry wince as he looked around him in slight panic that he was about to get punished for the noise. He gave a small sigh of relief when no one arrived to investigate the noise, completely unaware that the doors to the church should have been locked and the usual priest was currently reading a book in the rectory beside the church.

Harry, unaware of all of this, quietly tiptoed towards the doors leading to the nave of the church, remembering to reach up onto his toes so that he could cross himself with the holy water available and made his way into the main part of the church. He looked around him at the only place he had ever truly felt safe, even if he had only ever been there once before, and made his way to the confessionary at the side and hid himself inside.

He nearly fell off the seat in shock, and gave a startled squeak when the curtain was pulled aside and a voice spoke to him from the other side of the thin wooden wall.

"How can I help, kiddo?"

"Um… Sorry. I just… I needed somewhere to hide and Miss McKenzie, she's our teacher, she told us about church and said that they used to give um.. San… sac… sactury?" Harry asked, not entirely sure about the right word and hoping he wouldn't get in trouble or thrown out.

"Santuary? Yeah, we offer that. What do you need sanctuary from, Kiddo?"

"My cousin and his friends are mean and hurt me. They keep chasing me and now that we don't have school, I can't hide there. This was the only place I could think of going. I liked the Christmas time thing!" Harry said excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat as he wasn't thrown out nor told off.

The priest on the other side chuckled softly, and Harry could just about make out the silhouette of the man and caught a glimpse of gold flash when the man turned to face him. "You mean the mass? Yeah, lots of people like the Christmas Mass. You know normally people come in here to confess their sins, right?"

"Sins?"

"It means they've done something that would be frowned upon in the eyes of God."

"Oh! Should I do that then? Do I have to leave if I don't?"

"No, you can stay in here if you want. And you can confess if you want, though I dunno what a kid your age would have to confess?"

"Well, aunt tunia said that I am always bad and that God doesn't like me. So I guess I'm sorry about that? I try to be good, honest! But I'm not very good at it, I don't think," Harry admitted softly, looking down at his feet as he gently swung them.

"Kiddo, your aunt's wrong. God ain't gonna be upset with you when you've done nothing wrong and trust me, I doubt you've done anything bad enough to earn His anger."

"Oh. So God likes me?"

"Yeah, Kiddo. God loves you."

"Really?! No one's said that to me before! Does He really?"

"Yeah, Kiddo. I promise you, He loves you. Don't let anyone tell you different, okay?" Harry grinned and absently wondered why the man sounded so sad when he was telling him such good news. Harry had never been told he was loved so this was brilliant news!

"Then I really love Him too! Do you think He knows that? Should I send him a letter? We learnt all about them in school! Miss McKenzie told us that we can talk to people far far away! Like even all the way to London by sending letters! So should I send God a letter telling Him?"

"He's a bit further away that the Royal Mail could reach, Kiddo. But don't worry your little head off, He's aware of how you feel. This is His house. Whatever goes on in here, He's knows about it."

"Really? Does He live here then? Where is He? You're not God, are you?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at the divide suspiciously, huffing when the other man chuckled.

"No, Kiddo. I'm not God. Probably best not to go around asking random people that, He might be a bit insulted."

"Oh. So is He out? Does he work? Uncle Vern works. It makes him grumpy when he gets home. Will God be grumpy when he gets back?"

"He doesn't actually live here. It's er… you know what? Forget about this being His house, okay? What's your name, Kiddo? I don't think you've actually told me," the man asked him, sounding suspiciously like other grown ups when he asked them something they clearly didn't know.

"I'm Harry! I learnt it at school! I didn't know I got a name until then! I like it! Do you?"

"Harry's a great name, Kiddo. I'm Father Gabe. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Father Gabe! Do you live in this cupboard? It's small than mine but it smells nicer. Do you like it in here?"

"What do you mean your cupboard?"

"My cupboard! Where I sleep at night time! Don't you sleep in here?"

"Kiddo, no one should sleep in a cupboard. Don't you have a bedroom?"

"There's not enough room for me to have my own room! Aunt Tunia says I'm not 'llowed one. I like my cupboard though. The spiders in there are really nice and it's somewhere I can hide when I've been bad."

"Oh, Kiddo. You know you're welcome to come here whenever your cupboard isn't safe enough, okay? I'll always be here for you if need me."

"Okay Mr Father Gabe!"

"No need for the Mister, Harry. Father Gabe is enough. Shouldn't you be heading back home? Won't your aunt and uncle be missing you?"

"No. They like it when I'm not there I think. But I should pro'bly go home so I can make tea soon. Thank you for talking to me! Can we be friends? I've never had a friend before."

"Yeah, I'd like that, Kiddo. Let's be friends. Head on home now, I'll watch over you, okay?"

"Okay! Bye bye, Father Gabe! I'll come back soon!" Harry said cheerfully, jumping down from the seat and scarpering out of the booth, grinning widely at the good turn his life had just taken. He had his very own friend now and Dudley wouldn't be able to chase him away.

"See ya, Kiddo," 'Father Gabe' said softly, sighing sadly as he watched the surprisingly optimistic child leave the church. "Father, why can't we help him? Why can't we get him out of there?"

* * *

**Surrey. May 1992**

Harry quietly stood at the back of the church, keeping to the shadows of one of the pillars and watched the events happening. It was Dudley's First Holy Communion and Harry jealously watched as Dudley got blessed and accepted into a church that Harry desperately wanted to be a part of. Aunt Petunia had vehemently denied him though, claiming it was a sin to even consider allowing Harry to get communion.

He sniffled quietly as he watched the children line up in their suits and white dresses, waiting to be blessed and given their first piece of sacramental bread. He startled a little when someone suddenly stepped up to stand next to him, only relaxing when he saw that it was Father Gabe.

"Hey, Kiddo. I'm guessing your family didn't let you join in then?"

"No, they said I was a 'bomin'tion and wasn't allowed. Are they right, Father Gabe?"

"No, Kiddo. You're as far from being an abomination that anyone could get. You don't need to take communion to be part of the church," Father Gabe told him softly as they both watched the ceremony carry on. Dudley waddling up to begrudgingly take the offering and wrinkling his nose as it was placed on his tongue.

"But I wanted to. I'm not anything if I don't. Aunt Tunia told me that my parents didn't get me Christened so I'm a walking sin and will got to purgatory when I die like they did. Is that true? I don't want to go to purgatory but if that's where my mum and dad are, then maybe it won't be so bad," Harry said in soft, sad voice as he looked away from the procession and at his tatty shoes.

"You were Christened, Harry. And your parents are in Heaven. You've got a place there too, Kiddo. Don't you worry. And if you're so desperate to have communion, then if you come here later in the evening, then I'll give you your first holy communion, okay?"

"Really?"

"Promise, Kiddo."

"Thank you, Father Gabe."

* * *

**Surrey. July 1995**

Harry sat on the front pew, giggling asFather Gabe told him an elaborate story involving the Archangel Gabriel and an angel called Joshua. He'd come to the church after his aunt and uncle had thrown him out of the house for burning the tea. He'd been told not to return until the next day, so he'd gone to where he normally went in these situations.

"And then Gabriel was banned from the Garden of Eden until Joshua decided he could be forgiven and trusted not to mess with anything else there. Though in my opinion, I think that Joshua was just being a little too sensitive. I'm biased though because I'm always going to pick the side of my namesake," Father Gabe said with a grin. Harry slowly calmed down and stopped giggling as he looked at the one person in his life that he could truly rely on. "So, what is going on in your head, Kiddo? I can tell that something is going on."

Harry sighed and shrugged. "My aunt and uncle are acting weird."

"Weirder than they normally are?" Father Gabe asked, getting a snicker from Harry.

"Yeah. A letter came for me in the post the other day and before I could read it, they snatched it from me. I dunno what it was about but since then there's been at least one in the post every day. They were even in the eggs this morning! Obviously I'm to blame for all of this in the eyes of my family, but I really want to know what the letters are about. How come they're allowed to keep them from me? How is that fair?"

"They're not. And I can promise you that eventually you'll get to know the contents of it. Eventually all important messages get heard," Father Gabe told him mysteriously, which just made Harry huff in annoyance.

"You're being all mystical and avoidy again. Do you think it's got anything to do with the snake incident?"

"Possibly. And before you start panicking, I've already told you that speaking to snakes is not evil. I mean, it's not totally usual but it isn't evil either."

"I know. Still doesn't make it any less weird though."

"Meh, normal is overrated, I've always told you that. Is that all that's playing on your mind?" Father Gabe asked him as they both stared up at the large statue of the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, though neither really actually paying it any attention.

"I'm worried about going to Stonewall. I mean, Dudley isn't going there, so that's a bonus but how will I make any friends? I don't fit in anywhere and I have a weird habit of talking to God out loud."

"Yeah, you should probably work on that. I'm a priest and I think it's a little weird to talk to God out loud."

"Cheers," Harry deadpanned, giving Father Gabe a flat look before turning back to stare blankly at the statue.

"Look, Kiddo, don't worry about school. You're gonna be fine and you'll make friends. I promise you. And if you don't, then you've still got me."

"True. Thanks, Father Gabe."

"No problem, Kiddo. You know I'm always here when you need me."

* * *

**Surrey. June 1999**

"Have you thought about your confirmation?"

"I don't have anyone to stand in for me, Father," Harry said, as he and Father Gabe sat in their usual seats on the front pew of the church. Harry couldn't help but feel that he was being dragged further and further away from his first friend and confidente the longer he stayed in the wizarding world.

"You don't need anyone, Kiddo."

"Hmm."

"You don't have to take it, you know. It doesn't make you any less devout if you don't. He doesn't exactly mind either way. It's more a human thing."

"You kind of suck as a priest, you know that, right?"

"So you like to tell me. Man, being a teen really has made you snarky. So?"

"I don't know. I want to take it but what name would I choose? There is no patron saint for abominations that no one wants."

"Wow, you've really embraced the angst part of being a teen, haven't you? And you're not an abomination. How many times do I have to tell you this?"

"Well? What name would you pick for me? I mean, you'd be taking on the roll of everything during this. You're the only one I have."

"Michael," Father Gabe told him, uncharacteristically serious for once and making Harry turn to face him, not having actually expected an answer.

"What?"

"I'd pick out Michael, for you."

"Why? He's an archangel, would he even count?"

"He's in the Bible, isn't he? And he's technically been canonised. He counts. He's the Patron Saint of Soldiers," Father Gabe added, making Harry turn to look at him sharply.

"What?! What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not stupid, Harry. Each summer you seem more and more wary. Your eyes are more and more haunted and you look like you've gone through worse and worse Hell than ever before, which is saying something given your childhood. Your eyes are old and haunted like the more experienced of soldiers. Michael is perfect for you. Well, either him or Anastacia, but I figure you'd prefer a male name."

"It'd be appreciated, yeah," Harry said dryly, still slightly shaken from what his friend had told him. He wasn't exactly wrong though. "I guess Michael it is then. When shall we do it?"

"Delicately put. I'll set things up so you can take it next week, okay? And don't worry, Harry, Michael would be proud to share a name with you," Father Gabe told him with a strange look on his face that Harry couldn't quite place. He nodded in agreement and then sighed as he realised that he should really start to head back to the Dursley's. Hours later, Harry was still wondering what the look on Father Gabe's face meant.

* * *

**Surrey. June 2000**

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," Harry whispered as he took a seat in the confessional that he had first hidden in all those years ago.

"Kiddo, I think we can part with ceremony. Why are we meeting in here?" Harry rolled his eyes at the flippant response from the other side of the divide, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"It's easier to confess and say goodbye when I don't actually have to see you."

"Say goodbye? Kiddo, where are you going?"

"There's some things I need to do. You know, you were right when you said I should choose the name Michael. I looked up St Anastacia as well. She'd have been even more apt. There's a war going on, Father. And I'm the main target. I don't think I'm gonna get out of it alive and I fear that the things I'm going to have to do will seal my place in Hell. So I'm going to give one last confession before I am beyond absolution, is that okay, Father Gabe?" Harry asked with a small sad smile on his face. The silence from the other side stretched on to the point Harry started to worry until Father Gabe gave a tired, weary sigh.

"Kiddo…" The man trailed off, making Harry wonder what he was going to say. "Harry, no matter what you do, if it is during war, then God will forgive you. Unless there is no justification for what you do, then you'll be forgiven. Why would their be patron saints of soldiers if their was no chance of absolution for them?"

"I guess."

"I can't promise you'll get out of whatever war you're going to fight alive, but I can promise you'll find redemption and still have a place in Heaven."

"Sometimes I think you're not actually a priest. You aren't, are you? Can anyone else see you or are you a figment of my imagination?"

"I'm real, Kiddo."

"You didn't answer any of my other questions. Who are you?"

"You'll find out one day."

"I'm not going to see you again, how will I find out?"

"We'll meet again, Harry. I promise. Do you still want to confess?"

"Will it do any good?"

"It won't change things, no. As I keep telling you, you don't need to be forgiven."

"Then no. Goodbye, Father Gabe, thank you for always being there for me. I hope we do get to meet again, but if we don't I want you to know that you're the best parent I've ever had. Thank you for never turning me away," Harry said softly, before leaving the confessional and Father Gabe behind before the man could say anything in return.

In the now empty and silent church a quiet whisper could be heard from the confessional. "Goodbye, Harry. Father, don't let him live up to the name Anastasius."

* * *

**London. August 2000**

Harry reverently stroked the journal in his hands and then placed it in his bag and left the vault behind, letting the goblin lead him back out of the bank after having grabbed some money to pay for anything he may have needed to buy. He nodded his thanks to his goblin guide and then left the bank, grabbing some new robes and clothes before he left Diagon Alley and went back to his room in a hotel not far from the Leaky Cauldron.

It was the middle of the summer before his sixth year and he had left the Dursley's the day before his birthday and had run to the hotel he was currently staying in. He didn't want to be sent to the house that had been his godfathers prison before he had died and so he had run before anyone could have come to collect him.

Closing the door to his room behind him, he walked over to the bed in the room, placing his bags on top of his trunk at the end of the bed and then sitting down on the bed and digging the journal back out of his bag, opening it and starting to read it.

_1st December, 1983_

_I know I should not be writing anything I know down, but Lily and I have just discovered that Lily is pregnant. I know things that will need to be written down so that, should I die before I can explain things to my child, then they will at least have this to lead them towards the truth._

_I have spelled this journal so that only someone conceived by me can read it and it will also be sent to my main vault should I die. Hopefully with these precautions, this journal will not fall into the wrong hands._

_The reason I sound so paranoid is because I do not work for the Order as many believe. I do not work for the wizarding world either. I work for MI5, though not as a spy as Lily first assumed when I told her the truth. My family has worked in MI5 for years and I was automatically recruited as soon as I graduated from Hogwarts._

_My current assignment is to watch over a current dealer, who is thought to be higher up in the chain of crime than we have previously been led to believe. His name is Satch. If you are reading this instead of having been told it by me, then it is certain that Satch is the one to have had me killed. I am not big-headed enough to believe that he would have deemed me important enough to kill me himself. If I have been killed, then there is a high chance that Satch will still be alive whenever you find this. Please be careful. He never knew my real name, at least he doesn't know it whilst I am writing this. Things may change in the future._

Harry frowned as he read the first entry and then flipped through the following entries until he reached one that appeared to have been written on the day of his birth.

_31st July, 1984_

_I have a son. Harry James Potter was born at nine o'clock PM. I am currently writing this whilst sitting in a chair next to Lily's bed. She is fast asleep and Harry is sleeping in the small crib next to the bed._

_Harry, you are the only one who will be able to read this and if you are, then I am truly sorry that I have had to leave you. My hope is that you grew up with myself and Lily, happy and spoilt rotten in a such a way that is befitting the heir to the Potter family. However, if you are reading this, then such plans have not come about. I can only hope that whoever you were sent to, they spoilt you and loved you in the way that you deserve._

_You are such a beautiful little baby, if you didn't know, then you have your mother's eyes, though yours seem much brighter. You also appear to have her build and hopefully you will have her eyesight. Unfortunately, you have my hair. It drove my mother nuts and I'd imagine it is going to drive your mum nuts as well._

_Satch has slowly been growing his empire and now has his fingers in the pockets of most of the metropolitan police. I have been told by my superiors not to make a move and to continue acting as one of his dealers. I cannot help but worry about you and your mother. I should never have dragged you into this world._

_We have also been informed by Dumbledore of a prophecy that has been made. He told us of it once it became clear that it might refer to you. If you do not already know it then it is as follows:_

_'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born as the seventh month dies... Born to those who thrice defied him... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal... but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die and the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.'_

_Son, I do not know if it will be you. According to Dumbledore, it may also be a young boy called Neville Longbottom. If it does turn out to be you, then I am sorry. I truly am. When you are old enough to understand, I will begin to train you. You will not lose to Voldemort, son. I won't allow it._

* * *

"Glad to know someone had faith in me. Thank you Dad. Am I the one it refers to though? If I believe what I have read so far, Voldemort didn't kill my parents. A Muggle did. So, how did Voldemort mark me? How did I get my scar?" Harry muttered, before flipping through the pages, scanning the next couple of entries before one caught his eye.

* * *

_8th November, 1984_

_It would seem that bad news seems to come in groups. I have just been informed by my superior that Satch knows my real name and what I was doing. I have been told to place myself in protective custody. Ironically enough, a few hours later, Dumbledore paid us a visit telling us that he had been given word via a spy that Voldemort has heard the prophecy and has set his sights on my family._

_I am writing this in our new home, one that Dumbledore offered to us in Godric's Hollow. No one knows that we are here and they have been led to believe that we are somewhere else in the country living under the Fidelius. We chose not to go under the Fidelius as my bosses will not have any way of contacting me unless our secret keeper told them our address, and even to me, that would seem a little strange._

_We are now living under glamours as a new family that has moved into the Godrics Hollow. We have been given documents claiming us to be Henry, Elizabeth and little baby George Davies. Should anyone search for us, the Potters never existed in the Muggle world, but the Davies all have official documents going from birth certificates up to current passports and bank accounts._

_Harry, we have a lock box in London under the name Davies. In it I have placed some money, not much, but should you find yourself in need of money but unable to get to Gringotts, then go there. I will be placing small amounts in there whenever I get the chance. The key to the lock box should be spellotaped inside the back of this journal._

* * *

Harry flipped to the back of the journal and found the key that his father had spoken of. Getting an idea, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and placed the key inside it, planning on making a visit to Gringotts again in the morning. He once again scanned the following entries, now searching for clues as to who killed his parents and then finally coming to the final entry in the journal.

* * *

_31st October, 1985_

_Harry, I am so sorry I failed you. I should have ignored my need to stay in contact with my job and therefore refusing to use the Fidelius. I am sorry that I was not strong enough to protect you. Most of all, I am sorry that it seems I will be leaving you alone at the age of one._

_We have just been informed that both Satch and Voldemot have discovered our whereabouts. We have nowhere to run. We were never connected to the floo system as it would not have been safe and we cannot go to hide at a friends house as that will bring one of the two after us to them._

_We are trapped in the house that Dumbledore gave to us and I have come to the realisation that I will never get to see you grow up. I believe that you will be such a beautiful boy when you are older. Perhaps beautiful is not the right word to use in describing a young man, but I find it is the only word that gives you justice. You look far more like your mother than you do me._

_We have taken off the glamours so that our bodies will be easily identified and we have placed you in your nursery and have set up a silencing ward around it and a small ward to keep people from noticing the door. I am ashamed to admit that we have also drugged you. When you wake, there is a highly likely possibility that you will be an orphan._

_Satch will be the first to reach us, this I know. I was never any good in Divination, but my gut tells me that the Muggle Crime Lord will beat the Wizard Dark Lord to the final goal. So if you are reading this and Lily and myself did die tonight, know that it was Satch. Should you wish for vengeance (and I am not one to persuade you against it) then do not go to MI5. You will find that they will have no record of any Potter's working for them and I do not want you to end up under their control._

_Use what abilities you have to find him. Concentrate and depend on your strengths and work on improving your weaknesses. As your father, I want you to learn weaponry. Concentrate on blades mainly, but find someone who will teach you how to use different guns. I made one last drop in the lock box earlier this morning. There should be about ten thousand pounds in there. Use it wisely._

_Five pages from the back of this book I have put the names and current at the time of writing this numbers of several of my shadier contacts. They will get you any weapons you need, at a cost._ _They will_ _be high quality but they_ _will_ _be highly illegal. Harry, as long as it keeps you safe, do whatever you have to. I don't care about the law._

_A black Mercedes has just pulled up at the end of the street. It seems I was right._

* * *

Harry looked at the journal in his hands in shock and then quickly flipped to the back of the journal once more and then counted back the pages until he came across five names and numbers that looked to have been hastily scribbled in. He tore the page out of the journal and then folded it up and placed it in his wallet next to the key.

"Looks like I have plans to make. Thanks for the guidance," Harry muttered with a glance upwards before grabbing the hotel pen from the bedside table and began to jot down ideas and things he would need to do.

* * *

**London. March 2001**

Harry walked into a busy pub and made his way to the booth farthest away from the door and then sat down and waited. He didn't have to wait long before an older man with greying brown hair and kind baby blue eyes sat down opposite him with a large brown envelope placed on the table in front of him. Harry looked at the man expectantly without saying anything and the man glanced to their side before he pushed the envelope across to the table to Harry, who then picked it up and placed it in the bag he had brought with him.

"Thank you. Did you find everything I needed to know?"

"I did. It wasn't easy, but I'm not the best in the business for no reason."

"Good. The money will be in your account by the end of the day." Harry told him curtly before he stood up form the table and left.

After he had finished reading his fathers journal, he had made plans in regards to Voldemort _and_ Satch. The biggest part of the plan he had put into action was training. He had demanded training from Dumbledore, declaring that either Dumbledore trained him in hand-to-hand combat, weaponry and duelling or he would leave Hogwarts and find someone else who would train him.

Dumbledore had, unsurprisingly acquiesced to his demands, and had pulled Harry from Hogwarts himself. He had, much to his displeasure, been taken to Grimmauld Place to live and had been introduced to his five trainers that would teach him everything he needed to know in order to survive the war. All by the end of August. Harry secretly admitted he was impressed.

He had become very proficient in stealth and had used his skills against his keepers about two months into his training and had managed to contact two of the five people his father had told him about. They, in turn, had led him to two other people that would be able to get him whatever they couldn't. He had also started to take money from his vault in Gringotts and, after having had it converted into Muggle pounds sterling, he placed it in the lock box his father had left him.

He was now seven months into his training, and having been training for seven days a week and on average thirteen hours a day, he had become quite good. Though he was strongest in knives and, strangely enough, archery, which translated into being a good sniper when referred to guns. Though he still wasn't quite used to the recoil, he was better than he had been when he first started.

His trainer in blades had been surprised at first when Harry had enquired about learning how to use a gun, but after Harry had explained that Voldemort would be least expecting him to use Muggle weapons against him, then the trainer had admitted it was a good idea and had managed to find someone to train him in firearms.

Harry walked back to Grimmauld Place silently in the dark, using the shadows to hide him from anyone that may have been watching and then quietly let himself into the house. He did not open the envelope until after he had closed his bedroom door and had also made a quick call to his temporary bank account to transfer the money in it into the private detectives account.

Finally, he sat down on his bed and pulled out all the photos and documents found in the envelope. Reading through them all he grinned, he had hired the right man clearly. A squib by the name Randolph Williams, who had made a successful career in the Muggle world as a Private Detective, had been recommended to him by the goblins and they had not led him wrong. They deserved a bonus for their tip.

Harry's head shot up when he heard the front door of the house slam open and the sounds of several people running into the house made Harry quickly shove all the documents and papers on a certain Crime Lord under his pillow and grab a book from his bedside table.

He had moved just in time as not seconds after he had opened the book, his door was pushed open and Tonks stumbled in his room, looking quite flustered.

"Harry, Death Eaters are attacking a small village in Wales. It seems to be some sort of initiation rite, so Dumbledore has asked us to bring you along to see how well you have been training recently. So grab your robes and whatever else you think you might need and meet us in the hall. Hurry," Tonks told him and then ran out of the room, presumably to inform the rest of the houses occupants of the attack.

Harry jumped off his bed and grabbed his coat instead of his robes, finding it easier to move about in it. It was actually kind of like a pirates coat, complete with wide sleeves, but he loved it and it allowed easy movement and hid his weapons well. He then strapped his wand to his right arm, a long dagger to his left, placed a glock into the back of his trousers and then picked up his katana and walked out with his hanging from his hand, leaving the sheaf in his room. He wasn't exactly going to need it, was he?

He arrived in the hallway at the same time as Tonks came back from gathering the rest of the occupants of Grimmauld Place. The other wizards and witches gathering in the hall looked at him in shock. Well, they looked at his sword in shock, but no one said anything about his presence, which made him smirk before he hid it.

"Right, we're all here. Everyone touch the portkey, it will take us to just outside the village. Our spy informed us that the raid should have only just begun by the time we get there," Tonks told everyone, and Harry moved over to the pink-haired auror and placed his finger on the piece of rope in her hands. A minute later, he felt the familiar tug behind his navel and prepared himself for his landing, tightening his grip on his sword as he disappeared from Grimmauld Place.

* * *

**Llechryd, Wales. March 2001**

Harry stumbled as the portkey dumped them on the outskirts of a village that would occasionally be lit up by a spell being cast. It appeared they were the first to arrive to confront the Death Eaters, and Harry automatically clenched his hands around the sword as he let go of the rope and followed the rest of the group into the village.

It was carnage, and Harry noticed members of their group looking distressed over the sight of bodies strewn everywhere, many women and children half naked. He caught some members looking at him from the corner of their eyes, and seemed surprised to see that he was emotionless. He had seen much worse in his life. Most of the time when he was asleep and was watching Voldemort's 'play sessions' with his Death Eaters.

Harry growled under his breath and pushed passed the frozen members of the group, pausing as he glanced up to the sky. "The blood I spill tonight, I spill in the name of my God. Please accept my offering." Everyone around him stared at him as he spoke, and suddenly a rumble of thunder spread above them and the heavens opened up drenching everyone within seconds. "Oh come on! It was a joke! I was totally joking! Look at their faces! I'm about to commit mass slaughter, I should at least add a bit of levity to it!"

With a last laugh that seemed to unnerve those around him almost as much as his declaration did, Harry dove straight into the fray, using his sword to slice across a surprised Death Eaters chest. It wouldn't kill him, but it would hurt the DE like hell, and would temporarily hinder his movements.

He swung his sword again and managed to hit another DE in the throat, which Harry knew _would_ kill the man. He glanced over at the group he had arrived with and noticed that whilst many had joined the fight and were now stunning the DE's, three of the group, the ones that had looked at him for his reaction, were still watching him in stunned silence.

Harry rolled his eyes and then cursed and dodged a bright green light aimed at his head.

"Could be more original than that, couldn't you?" Harry shouted, grinning maniacally and stabbing his sword into a DE's chest and then pulling out his gun.

"Harry Potter! My master has plans for you. He believes you would make a most pleasing whore! If we're lucky, he may ev –" Harry had enough of the Death Eater's taunting and fired a bullet into the DE's skull, hiding his surprise at not missing and then turning and shooting another DE.

Finally, the aurors arrived from the ministry, which seemed to be the signal for the Death Eater's to leave and they all apparated out before an anti-apparation ward could be put up. Harry stopped what he was doing and placed the gun back in his waist-band and looked over at where Tonks was limping towards him.

"Dumbledore will be pleased to learn how well you are committing yourself to your studies, Harry," she told him with a wide smile. Harry shot her a tired smile back and looked down at his bloody sword.

"I very much doubt that, but thanks for the praise all the same, Tonks," Harry told her, crouching down to clean the blood from his sword off on the robes of a downed Death Eater, then standing up straight and wincing when a slash across his back, that he hadn't realised he had, was pulled.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. Shall we get back to Grimmauld?" Harry asked her and she nodded and made her way back to where the group of wizards and witches that he had arrived with were gathering.

"You did well, Mr Potter. I will admit to being surprised at how well you did. I am glad to be on your side of this war," a man that Harry vaguely recognised but couldn't remember the name of, told him and Harry shot him a small smile.

"Thank you," Harry muttered, not completely used to the praise he was being given. He then thought back to what the Death Eater had told him and a grin bloomed on his face. Use his talents indeed.

* * *

**Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton. 3rd May 2002.**

At the end of what should have been Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, Harry was slowly creeping through the halls of Voldemort's manor, searching for the elusive Dark Lord.

He snuck through the dark and dingy halls, ducking into shadows occasionally when he heard an approaching Death Eater and sometimes killing them if they were alone. As he walked through the halls, leaving a steady trail of carnage and death behind, he finally came to a large set of double doors and winced when his scar gave an angry twinge.

Looking down both sides of the corridor, Harry straightened his back, tightened his grip on his sword and then pushed the doors open dramatically and walked in. Inside, Voldemort stood in front of five other Death Eaters, and all had turned to look at him when he had walked in.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort hissed and Harry nodded his head and threw him a cheerful grin which completely belied what he was feeling inside. Inside he was a bundle of nerves and anxiety.

"That's me. So, I've come to the decision that I'm fed up of this war and I've come to end it. I have other things to do than hide from you in a dingy house and time is running out with regards to some of those things."

"And what could be more important than ridding the Wizarding World of me, Mr Potter?" Voldemort asked, walking past the stunned Death Eaters to stand just in front of Harry, throwing his bloody sword a curious glance.

"Revenge."

"Oh? _Not_ against me? Who else could you possibly wish to seek revenge for?" Voldemort asked him and Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering why Voldemort seemed so _chatty_ at the moment.

"I know you didn't kill my parents, Voldemort. I have no idea how I got this scar, but I do know that you had no hand in my parents deaths."

"How did you find that out? I was the only one to know, everyone assumed that I had killed the Potter's before I made my attempt on your life."

"But you didn't, did you? The wizards didn't bother to check the bodies. If they had, they would have found the wounds in my parents chests. So, tell me. How did I get the scar? I'm truly dying to know."

"I arrived at the house that night to find your father's body strewn on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. At the top, your mother was lying. I would have left then, assuming you were nowhere to be found, when the ward surrounding your nursery finally faded completely and my interest was piqued. Why would they hide a nursery if there was no one inside? Imagine my joy when I found out that you had been left all alone and defenceless in there."

"So you tried to kill me and it failed?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"How did it fail if it hadn't been my mother's sacrifice? And why did you not tell me whenever we had a confrontation?"

"I never told you that I _did_ kill your parents either. Everyone just assumed I had in order to get to you. As for how the spell failed, that I do not know the answer to," Voldemort admitted with a small shrug of his shoulders, even as he fingered his wand in his hand.

"Huh, didn't think you would know, but I figured I would ask. So then, shall we get on with it?" Harry asked him with a bright smile, glancing at the wary Death Eater's out of the corner of his eyes then back at Voldemort when the man in front of him shifted and pointed his wand at him.

Harry titled his head to the side, much to the confusion of Voldemort, and then let his sword drop from his grasp and instead pulled out his gun, which made Voldemort sneer at him.

"What will that do?" Voldemort asked him imperiously and Harry looked at the gun in his hands and then grinned before looking back up at Voldemort.

"Oh, you know, this and that. Wanna demonstration?" Harry asked, lifting the gun and aiming it at one of the DE's heads. Voldemort looked at him speculatively and then, much to Harry's surprise, nodded.

"Go ahead. They are not that important. Please, show me the wonders of your Muggle toy," Voldemort said with a sneer and Harry chuckled before quickly spinning his arm to face Voldemort and fired twice into his skull.

"Moron. You know, that was disappointingly anti-climatic, wasn't it?" Harry asked the stunned Death Eaters, before firing another three bullets into Voldemort's chest and then turning to face the Death Eaters.

He had managed to shoot two of the Death Eaters before they finally snapped out of the fact that their master had just been killed and started to fire curses back at him. Harry swore and dodged the third killing curse sent his way, shooting at the DE's and managing to hit one in the shoulder before having to duck another curse.

"Shit. Maybe I should have told the Order of my plans," Harry muttered, running to the doors of the room and then throwing himself out of them, managing to close one just as a DE ran into it and snickering at the loud thud it made. Harry then picked himself off the ground and cursed as he realised he had left his sword in the other room. "Sorry Geoff, but sometimes people fall behind... and swords," Harry muttered as he ran down the corridor, pulling out his dagger with his other hand, breathing heavily and ducking another curse sent his way. "Crap, they got out."

Harry managed to flee down a corner, but cursed mentally when he realised that he had just taken the wrong turning and thus taking him further from the way out.

"God dammit! Give me a break! Can you at least safely lead me another way out of this God forsaken place. And yes, I do realise that I am talking a being who quite possibly doesn't exist, and if He does exist then clearly abandoned me years ago," Harry muttered, before looking up in shock when a door at the end of the corridor was slammed open.

Harry ran into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against it and trying to control his breathing, holding his breath when he heard the other three Death Eaters run past the room he was in. Harry pushed himself off the door and then glanced over at window in front of him in shock.

"You have got to be kidding me," Harry muttered, slowly walking over to the window that overlooked the gate leading off the grounds. The open window that faced the gate. "Oh I take it all back. Thank you, God," Harry muttered and then carefully climbed out of the window and let himself drop the rest of the way to the ground.

He then looked around him for anyone that may be outside, but clearly if there had been any other Death Eaters in the house, none had been warned of his arrival... or of their leader's demise. "Please keep up the good work," Harry mumbled with a glance upwards and then, after looking to either side, he made a dash for the gates.

He heard a shout be sounded behind him, but just managed to get through the gates and past the wards in time to avoid the curses that had been thrown at him. He then jauntily waved at the Death Eaters as he apparated away, landing on his knees in front of Grimmauld Place.

"Oh, I will never, ever deny your existence ever again. Just... think you can get me out of the on coming interrogation?" Harry asked, then looked at the front door when it was slammed open and Molly Weasley was standing in the doorway looking furious. "Yeah, didn't think so. I appreciate the effort though."

"Harry James Potter! Where have you been? Do you know how worried we've been?" Molly demanded and Harry flinched but walked into the house when she stepped out of the way of the door.

"I need to get clean," Harry muttered, looking down at his slightly bloody clothing, which brought Molly's attention to his clothes and she shrieked, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him into the kitchen, where half the Order seemed to be sitting. Harry grunted as he was shoved into a chair and the members in the room all looked at him.

"Where have you been?" Tonks asked, and Harry looked at her and rolled his eyes. He shifted and pulled out his gun and placed it on the table, then placed his knife, daggers and wand on the table.

"I lost Geoff. I loved that sword," Harry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest grumpily, whilst Shaklebolt snorted and looked at him incredulously.

"You named your sword _Geoff_?"

"Yeah? Why not? He looked like a Geoff. This gun is called Dru, the two daggers are Lily and Rose, and the knife is called Mason. It looks like a Mason."

"That is very interesting Mr Potter. But it does not tell us where you have been? Do you not understand the trouble you could have gotten into? You could have gotten killed." Professor McGonagall demanded and Harry rolled his eyes and slumped into his chair.

"You do realise that I am seventeen and therefore, under your laws, a legal adult. Right? Therefore, you can't actually tell me what I can and can't do."

"Mr Potter! We are doing this for your own safety."

"Well, I don't need your protection anymore. I went to Little Hangleton. Voldemort is dead. And I'm leaving. I'll be gone by tomorrow. Lovely doing business with you." Harry told them, standing up from the table in their shocked silence and walking to the door.

"What is your proof that You Know Who is dead?"

"I'm still alive. And it's Voldemort, grow a pair and use it," Harry told them before he left the room and the slowly rising whispers, behind.

* * *

Harry shoved his clothes into his duffle bag and then opened his trunk and pulled out a smaller trunk that contained all of his weapons that he had managed to accumulate in the last two years and shrank it before putting it in his bag before he zipped the bag up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. He was pulling it on just as his door swung open and Hermione, Ron and Ginny all piled in, making him raise an eyebrow at them all and pull his coat on the rest of the day.

"Harry! You cannot leave! Where will you go? Why do you have to leave in the first place? If You Know Who really is dead, then you can finish your schooling!" Hermione told him, whilst Ginny and Ron both nodded.

"Yeah, and we can see if we can have a relationship," Ginny said, making Harry gape at her. He went to say something but Ron picked up the pace.

"Yeah! You and Ginny will finally be able to be together and we really will be brothers!" Ron exclaimed excitedly and Harry sighed and shook his head, making his hair fly around his face.

"I'm leaving. I don't know where I will be staying, but it will be somewhere in the Muggle world. I'm leaving the wizarding world behind," Harry told them, picking up his bag and moving to stand in front of them.

"What? You can't leave! What about me?!" Ginny cried, actually stomping her foot and narrowing her eyes at him. Harry looked at her and then looked heavenwards.

"Seriously? This? Thanks," Harry grumbled, ignoring the strange looks Hermione was shooting him. "Look Ginny. It would have never worked between us. I'm sorry."

"Why not! We're perfect together!"

"Really? How do you know that? Do you even know me? At all? I mean me, not what you read in the papers and magazines," Harry asked her, placing his bag and the floor to cross his arms over his chest.

"I... I know your favourite colour is red! And... and you love flying and your favourite thing to do is play quidditch!" Ginny said, looking smug and Harry shook his head and dropped his hands to his side.

"You don't know anything about me Ginny. My favourite colour is blue, and yeah, I like flying, but my favourite thing isn't playing quidditch. I've changed since you last saw me last year. My favourite thing to do now is knives. I love knives and to a certain extent swords. I love fighting and I love firearms. I haven't honestly thought about quidditch now for over a year. Now, if you don't mind, I've got to leave," Harry said, picking his bag back up and pushing past them.

"Wait! Why? Why are you leaving?" Hermione shouted after him, running to catch up with him on the stairs.

"I have something that needs to be done. Something my dad started and that I need to end."

"What? And why do you have to leave the wizarding world to do this?"

"I don't. I want to however. Look, I'm sorry, I really am. But I don't belong here. You wanna know how I killed Voldemort? I shot him. No spells, nothing magical. I just... I don't belong in this world. I don't think I ever have. I've killed Voldemort for you all, now you can leave me alone and let me live my life how I want to."

"And how's that? You don't have any qualifications! How are you going to get a job? Do you even _exist_ in the Muggle world?" Hermione demanded and Harry shot her a funny look.

"Of course I do, Hermione. As for what I'm going to do. I'm going to go to a college and get my GCSE's and perhaps my A-Levels there, and in the mean time I'm going to find a small job somewhere near to where I decide to live. Just let me go Hermione. You made your place in this world but I never got that chance, so I'm leaving before they can either throw me in prison or turn me into something I'm not." Harry told her bluntly and then jogged the rest of the way down the stairs and straight to the door. "I'll contact you with my address and other details once I'm settled if you still want to stay in touch. Bye, Hermione, Ron, Ginny."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny all watched as the door closed behind their friend in a shocked silence, only snapping out of it when the kitchen door opened and Molly came out.

"Did I just hear someone go out the door?"

"Yeah. Harry. He left."

* * *

**London. 6th May 2002**

Harry hadn't actually moved all that far away from Grimmauld Place, only nearer to London city centre. He had found an apartment in Bethnal Green that he had paid for with money from his accounts in Gringotts, and had been told that it would take about five days for the sale to go through, so in the mean time, he was staying in a hotel.

He had got a mobile phone set up and had opened a bank account, which he had put money from his vault in Gringotts, though he still placed some money in the lock box, just in case he should need it. By this time, he had about seventy thousand pounds in the lock box, and he had no intention of using any of it yet.

However, things don't always work out as planned and Harry was reading a letter from Gringotts that made him realise that he may have to use the money in the lock box soon.

_Mr Potter,_

_Our esteemed Minister has been informed of your decision to leave the wizarding world and, as per laws set in 1787 for the protection of our world, your vaults will be sealed by the end of the day._

_You will not be able to get money from the vaults and they will be sealed until you come back to live in the wizarding world, or descendants of yourself are introduced to the wizarding world._

_We apologise for the way the laws have been written and your loss._

_Griphook_

_Potter Vaults Manager_

_Gringotts Bank of Magical Britain._

"Well shit," Harry cursed, before he looked at his watch and then grabbed his wallet, phone, coat, his wand, which he shoved in his back pocket and his knife, which he strapped to his right arm. Then he grabbed the key card and placed it in his pocket before leaving his room. "You couldn't have just given me a bit longer, could you? Sheesh, this is because of that blood spilling joke, isn't it?"

He made his way to Charring Cross road and the Leaky Cauldron and then, smoothing his fringe over his scar, made his way through the crowded pub and then tapped the bricks to get access to Diagon Alley. He then made his way through the crowded street, noticing that the death of Voldemort hadn't seemed to have been made public yet, and walked through the doors of Gringotts.

Walking over to a teller, he waited for the man in front of him to finish his business then stepped forward and smiled at the goblin, which shocked the being in front of him.

"Hi, I'd like to see Griphook please," Harry asked in what he hoped was his politest voice, though he was beginning to get anxious just being there.

"Name?"

"Harry Potter," Harry whispered, glancing nervously to the side and then back to the goblin, who grinned at him and then pressed something on his desk.

Five minutes of anxious waiting later and Griphook walked over to them, nodding to the goblin and then looking at Harry.

"If you'd like to follow me," Griphook told him and Harry nodded and followed the goblin to an office just off the main hall. "Please, take a seat." Harry nodded and sat down in the seat opposite Griphook, then looked at his hands.

"It's about the letter you just sent me," Harry finally admitted, placing the letter on the desk for Griphook to read.

"Ah, Mr Potter, I am afraid there is nothing I can do about this. It is out of my hands and this is one ministry law that we at Gringotts must adhere to."

"No, I get that, I just came to check that any payments I may have made will still go through. More importantly, the money to purchase an apartment. The sale has been made, but I don't know if the money has gone through yet," Harry said, fidgeting in his seat and looking at Griphook.

"I assume you are referring to the money to be transferred to Barrett Homes?"

"Yeah, that would be the one."

"Then you are quite alright. The money went out this morning, about an hour before Fudge came in demanding the closure of your vaults."

"Right. If... if I don't have kids... what happens to the money then?" Harry asked him curiously.

"The vaults will stay sealed until someone comes along and they have any connections to you."

"Right. What about the Black family vaults?"

"They are yours by right. They will be merged with the Potter family vaults."

"No, don't do that. Erm... oh God I can't believe I'm going to say this. Give them to Draco Malfoy. Make him the new Lord Black."

"Are you sure of this decision?"

"No? Ah crap. What about Nymphadora Tonks instead. Can she get it?"

"You have until five o'clock this evening until you are no longer thought of as Lord Black. You will have to reinstate Miss Tonks as a member of the Black family and then you can give her the vaults and rights as the Black family head."

"Okay. How do I do that then?"

"I will get the papers you will need to sign. Just please stay here for a minute Mr Potter," Griphook told him and then he walked out of the office.

"Oh this is all just completely fucked up," Harry muttered to himself, then looked upwards. "You can be a dick sometimes, you know that, right?"

Half an hour later and Harry had managed to sign over all rights to the Black vaults to Nymphadora Tonks, who would soon be receiving a letter informing her of her new social status. With that done, Harry had gone down to the main family vault one last time and had taken out his father's journal, invisibility cloak and had filled a bag with some galleons, which he had then had converted into Muggle currency.

Harry made his way back to his hotel room despondently, frowning when his phone vibrated signalling a message. Pulling it out, he read the message and then grinned. Looked like things might actually going well for once.

* * *

**Bethnal Green. 18th May 2002**

Harry grinned as he pulled on some skinny jeans and a tight black sweater, then scruffed up his hair and grabbed his phone, wallet and anything else he would need, then left to go to the hotel he would meet his first client.

He had found a madam the week previously who had been interested in expanding her business to include male escorts. She had taken one look at Harry and had hired him, telling him he would have to start off at the bottom, on eight pounds an hour, thirty pounds of which would go to her. Harry agreed, and soon Harry Potter disappeared from all except to those who already knew him, and the male escort, Bambi came onto the scene.

Which brought Harry to where he was right now, standing, somewhat nervously, in front of a door in the hotel and trying to convince himself to knock on it. His madam had been ecstatic to find out that he was willing to 'service' both males and females, which widened her clientele even more. So his first client was a business man, an apparently very well known business man in the Muggle world. Perhaps he should start reading Muggle newspapers to find out how well known his clients are.

He had, admittedly, lied about his age, not that his madam would have cared all that much. He had gone to one of his new contacts about getting ID for himself, stating that he was actually twenty years old as opposed to seventeen, which would have been a bit illegal.

The sale for his apartment had successfully gone through about a day later than they had told him it would, so he had somewhere to live, he had bought a new mobile phone on contract for his clients, and he had a job, so his life was picking up. And he was just that little bit closer to getting to Satch.

Harry took a deep breath, patted his pockets down to check that he had everything he would need and then knocked on the door, smiling widely to hide his nerves when the door opened and the man let him in.

"Here goes, wasn't it your book that said this is the oldest profession in the world? Well, I'm keeping it going. Wish me luck," Harry muttered and walked past the man into the opulent hotel room, trying not to fidget and give away how nervous he actually was.

* * *

**London. 25th January, 2006**

"Seriously, four years? Four frickin' years? Cuttin' it fine, aren't you?" Harry muttered looking at the ceiling. He had just received a message from his madam making an appointment with a man going by the name Jonathan Satchell. Which made Harry grin maniacally, considering that was the name of Satch. "Four frickin' years," Harry muttered, pulling on the leather trousers that Satch had requested, though Harry had no idea why, nor did he particularly want to know.

After he had gotten ready, he grabbed everything he would need, and then picked up the spare wand he had bought just for this purpose. He then took a deep breath and left his apartment, the very same one he had bought all those years ago.

He still placed the money he made into a lock box, though a different one than the one his father had opened. It was apparently something most call girls and male escorts used in order to avoid having to pay taxes, and of course Harry thought that to be an excellent idea and did the same.

He had also managed to become one of the best paid and most sought after male escorts in London. He charged on average three hundred an hour, unless the client wanted something extra, then he charged by what they wanted. He had also become quite proficient in talking about operas, even if he only ever saw the first half of _any_ opera, play, or concert that he had been to see. And if anyone ever asked him and he was truthful, he loved his job. And he now, finally, got the opportunity to get close to Satch. He had every intention of finishing it tonight.

Walking calmly into the hotel lobby, smiling at the doorman kindly and then made his way to the front desk.

"Hello, how may I help?" The receptionist asked, looking him up and down and then smiling widely, fluttering her eyelashes. Harry grinned at her seductively and leant against the counter.

"Hi, I'd like a room for the night please," Harry asked, pulling out his wallet and then looking at her expectantly.

"Oh! Of course. A single?"

"That would be fine."

"Right, well room 515 is available at a hundred and seventy a night," She told him as she tapped on the keyboard.

"That will be fine."

"Okay then sir, will you be paying cash or card?"

"Cash," Harry told her, taking out the right amount and then adding an extra twenty before he passed it over to her. She counted the money and threw him a wide smile before handing him the key to the room, which Harry placed in his coat pocket. "Thank you. What time to you get off work?"

"Oh! Erm... eleven," She told him shyly and Harry smiled widely at her, almost predatorily.

"Then you should know, my door will be open at about that time. Perhaps we will see each other later," Harry told her and then turned around and walked to the stairs, grinning when he heard the excited whispers of the two behind the desk. He had just managed to solidify his alibi.

Harry walked down the corridor towards the room Satch had stated he would be in, which was two floors above his own, and then stopped in front of the door. He messed his hair up and smoothed his shirt down before knocking on it.

"Ah, you must be Bambi," the man who opened the door said with a smirk, and Harry smiled at him widely, thanking his youth for making him look more innocent than he actually was.

"Of course," Harry said with a smile, entering the hotel room, brushing against the elder man as he passed. He had guessed that Satch must have been in his late sixties, but clearly running a crime business was good for physique as Harry certainly wasn't going to sneer at the man in front of him.

"Now, I don't have a lot of time, so just go into the bedroom and wait for me there," Satch told him and Harry turned to the bedroom silently, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the ceiling.

"Impatient isn't he?" Harry muttered as he entered the bedroom of the suite and shucked off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, placing both on the chair in the room. He had no idea if Satch actually wanted him to be naked or not, so he just unbuttoned his trousers but kept them on, then he pulled out his saving grace, a small blue pill and swallowed it before he sat back on the bed and waited for Satch to come back in.

Harry was, admittedly, a little nervous that Satch had somehow managed to find out his real name and who his father was, and that that was why Satch was making him wait in the bedroom. Harry nibbled on his lip, which was something he normally did to make his bottom lip more red and plump, but this time was just due to nerves. He looked up when Satch entered the room and relaxed slightly when the older man just grinned at him and then began to take his own clothes off.

Naked, Satch then sat on the bed next to Harry, and placed a hand over Harry's stomach, rubbing it and then trailing it downwards to rest just above Harry's crotch. The Viagra by this time, had started to kick in, which Harry could only be grateful for as he certainly wasn't feeling turned on. He stayed still as Satch moved to sit over him and began to pull the trousers off of him and then threw them onto the floor.

Satch then sat back and motioned for Harry to sit on his lap. Harry complied and moved so that their erections brushed against one another, faking a moan of pleasure then running his hands down Satch's chest, stopping just before he touched his penis.

Satch ran his hands down Harry's back and chuckled when he reached Harry's behind and felt the base of the butt plug Harry had been required to wear for this 'meeting'. He had found, over the years, that some clients preferred if he came ready prepared and some preferred to prepare him themselves. Then there was the minute few that preferred hardly any preparation at all, those ones Harry hated.

"You came prepared," Satch muttered, twisting the plug and making Harry gasp, this time not faked though it was more a shock of surprise than of pleasure, but he didn't particularly care how Satch viewed it.

"You did ask," Harry muttered, leaning forwards the press a kiss to the hollow of Satch's neck, forcing himself not to wrinkle his nose in displeasure and then forcing himself to moan when Satch removed the butt plug and moved him to replace it with something a little larger.

"You're so tight," Satch moaned and Harry rolled his eyes and then moaned loudly as Satch thrust into him. Pushing himself up so that he was sitting up straight. He looked down at Satch and then nibbled his lip and closed his eyes, Satch grunted and grabbed his thighs, holding him down even as Harry slowly reached to his arm and pulled out his wand. "What-?"

"Night, night Satch," Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the shocked man underneath him and grinning. " _Avada Kedavra_." With a shock of green light, Satch was no more and Harry climbed off of the man and walked over to his clothes, pulling them on and making sure that he left nothing behind that belonged to him.

"Oh what? You knew this is what I was going to do. So I've sinned, so what? Hello! I'm a damn prostitute! Hardly something pious now, is it?" Harry grouched as he leant over the bed to delicately pull the condom off of Satch and then concentrated and vanished it from his hands. "Besides, I use magic, which is completely against your little followers religion anyways."

Harry opened Satch's wallet and took out the money for his services, delighting in the irony of only taking enough for his services, not taking any more than what he had told Satch he would charge, and then left the hotel room, going to the stairs and to the floor he was staying in. He opened his hotel room and walked over to the bed in the room, sinking down on it.

Fifteen minutes later, the realisation of what he had just done finally set in and he began to laugh hysterically. He had finally done what he had set out to do all those years ago. He looked at the time and noticed that it was half past ten. Perhaps he would be getting a visitor soon. He hoped so, because the Viagra was not going to let him forget that he had taken it.

* * *

**Bethnal Green. 31st January, 2006**

Harry paced the floor of his living room and tugged on his hair slightly, turning in his spot and walking to the other side of the room. He glanced at his phone lying innocently on the coffee table and then groaned and spun around again to walk in the opposite direction.

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry alright. I tried to quit and find a more respectable job but well, I dropped out of conventional Muggle schooling at the age of eleven and out of wizarding schooling at sixteen. I am completely unemployable and the only thing I'm trained for is spreading my legs or killing people. So really, I ask you, what is the lesser of two evils? Exactly," Harry muttered, wondering if anyone actually thought it odd that he had one sided conversations with God.

Harry tugged at his hair once more and then walked over to the coffee table and picked up his phone, dialling a number and holding it to his ear.

"Jayne? Yeah, I'll take that job. He wants chains and no prep right? Okay, tell him I'm gonna have to charge him double if he wants that. Alright? Good. Thanks. Will he be coming here or... The Hilton? Swanky. Right, tell him he needs to text me the room number on the night. Okay then, Thursday at eight. Got it. Will he want me for the whole night or what? Alright then. Yeah, ring me if you get any more appointments. Thanks."

Harry hung up and threw his phone down onto the couch before groaning and sitting down on the coffee table, placing his head into his hands. "Yeah, I know. I'm a whore. Well, guess what? I like it. Why do I even speak to you? You've helped me once in all the years I've been alive. And that could have just been a coincidence. I damn freaky coincidence, but one all the same. If you had intervened in my life from the beginning, then maybe I wouldn't have reached this point of my life. Sorry alright? But this is what I am. You abandoned me and so I made my own way in life."

* * *

**Bethnal Green. 31st May, 2008**

Harry opened the door to his apartment, humming lightly after having been to his lockbox to deposit his recent earnings. He threw his bag into his bedroom as he passed and then walked into the living room, stopping in shock when he noticed two men standing there. The smaller of the two wearing a trench coat and looking around the room curiously, whilst the taller man just stood there stoically, sneering when he noticed Harry standing in the doorway.

"What the hell-? Who-? Why are you here? _How_ did you get in?" Harry demanded, stepping forwards, but trying not to look too threatening, seeing as there were two of them, and they were both taller than him.

"Harry Potter, we have come to ask you a favour," the shorter one stated, stepping forwards to stand in front of Harry.

"Right. And you couldn't have rang me instead? I _do_ have two phones for you to choose from. And if you want _that_ kind of favour, then you have to make an appointment through Jayne Harwick. Sorry," Harry told them, shifting slightly to show his discomfort, which was actually mirrored on the shorter's face.

"We have come to ask a favour of you but not like that," the taller, coloured man stated and Harry looked at him curiously.

"Right... Can I ask your names? You know, seeing as you know my name and all. I feel at a disadvantage," Harry told them moving to lean against the doorframe.

"I am Uriel and he is called Castiel. We are here due to your skills and we have come to ask that you join our side to prevent a catastrophe from occurring."

"Okay... what is this catastrophe?"

"We have heard your conversations with Our Lord and Father. We believe you will be able to do the job we have come to ask of you," Castiel told him and Harry strangely found himself liking Castiel more than Uriel, who just freaked him out a little.

"And what is it you wish to ask me to do?" Harry asked them, well he more asked Castiel, but Uriel was the one to answer all the same.

"We know that you feel guilty over what you do and that you can see no way of getting out. We have come to offer you a way out."

"Which is? And how do you know this?"

"We are angels of the Lord. The very Lord you speak to on a regular basis. We have been sent to you to give you an alternative," Castiel told him smoothly and Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh? Angels? _Really_? I realise that this may be kinda tough, but see where I'm coming from here, how can I believe you? Is there anyway you can prove it to me? Without killing or harming me in anyway," Harry added hastily, eyeing Uriel cautiously.

"We know everything about you, Harry Potter, also known as Bambi to his madam and clients. We know that you stayed in touch with Hermione Granger until she found out about your real job and broke off contact with you two years ago. We also know that you took this job so that you could info and kill your parents murderer, which you also succeeded in two years ago. You defeated Voldemort and left the wizarding world behind when you were seventeen. And finally, Voldemort could not kill you when you were one because God did not feel it was your time to go," Castiel told him, making Harry gape at him in shock.

"Okay... so you're angels. He didn't feel it was time for me to go? So... so he _stopped_ my death?" Harry asked weakly, looking at Castiel curiously.

"He made the curse fail, he did not stop you from dying. He knew that you would be important should you be able to live, so he prevented your death," Uriel told him bluntly and Harry nodded slowly and then raised a hand to run it through his hair.

"Right. So he was listening when I spoke to him? Every time?"

"God listens whenever one of his children speaks. You just happened to speak to him more often than someone normally does. And he knows that you feel some guilt over what you do, but you still do not regret the path your life has taken. Which is why you were chosen for this job," Uriel told him and Harry exhaled in exasperation.

" _What_ job? You keep mentioning a job, but you have yet to tell me what it is," Harry pointed out, annoyed at the two beings in front of him.

"We want you to go to America to prevent someone from falling from grace."

" _Prevent_ someone from falling from grace? As in, stop it?! I'm a whore! I make people fall from grace! It is in my best interest to encourage people to break the law and solicit my services! And you want me to _stop_ someone from falling from grace. And what does that mean exactly? I mean, if you read the Bible, that could be anything from doing my job to sleeping with a damned demon. So, tell me, how am I to stop someone falling?"

"You will be given forgiveness and you will be paid if you go to America and use any means necessary to prevent one Samuel Winchester from associating with demons," Castiel told him and Harry just gaped at him.

"Heaven is going to pay me to do anything to prevent this guy from associating with demons? _Anything_? Even, killing and seducing?"

"We do not want you to kill Samuel but you can seduce him if you deem it necessary. And yes, we will pay you whatever you ask. We do not know what you normally charge."

"Oh this is surreal. I'm being commissioned by angels. Let me tell you, that isn't normal for a prostitute. Normally your little believers look down on us. I was thrown out of a church once when they discovered what I did! Not very forgiving," Harry grumbled and Uriel narrowed his eyes at him and then looked at Castiel.

"Will you take the job?"

"Fine, but you pay me twelve hundred pounds a day, for each day that I am with Samuel Winchester. You pay off my mortgage and you let me collect some things that I will need to take with me. Oh! And you pay for the plane ticket," Harry stated and Uriel nodded before disappearing. "He always do that?"

"He has gone to arrange things for our deal. You will have no need for a plane ticket as we will take you to the town that Sam is currently staying in. We will take you to America in two days time, before which, I will teach you everything I know about demons and how to stop them, kill them, and exorcise them, and also some things about angels, including how to call me should you need me," Castiel told him and Harry nodded again, then pushed himself off of the doorframe and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it, whilst pulling out his phone.

"Take a seat if you want. I just need to ring my madam and tell her that I will no longer be available to her services, which will be a hell of a lot harder than it sounds. She isn't going to let her best prostitute get away easily," Harry muttered, dialling the number and then looking at Castiel in shock when he took the phone from Harry. "What—?"

"I will deal with your... madam. Whilst I am gone, you can make any arrangements you will need to make."

"Right. Thank you, Castiel."

"I am only doing what I was told to do," Castiel told him and Harry just shrugged and grinned at him, shaking his head in bemusement when Castiel disappeared from the room.

"My life is weird. I kinda feel sorry for this Sam Winchester."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - So! First of the rewritten chapters! As promised in the (new) prologue, I'll just tell you what changes were in this chapter in case you don't want to have to read the whole thing again (can't say I blame you).
> 
> Okay, so the beginning of this chapter is a lot different than originally. I've added a fair few snippets of Harry's childhood and his confidente 'Father Gabe'. I've made the Dursley's Catholic so Harry's random confessions he makes make a little bit more sense than they would if the Dursley's weren't religious. So in order, if you don't want to read them, they are:
> 
> \- Harry's first visit to church and finding his faith (and a certain angel finally finding the Faithful Child)
> 
> \- Harry runs and hides in the church, meeting Father Gabe for the first time and making his first friend in the man.
> 
> \- Harry watches Dudley's First Holy Communion jealously and Father Gabe offers to let Harry take his privately. Harry accepts.
> 
> \- Harry tells Father Gabe about a mysterious letter arriving and the Dursley's refusing to allow him to read any of them. Gabe tells Harry that eventually he will get to read it as all messages eventually reach their recipient. The Patron Saint of Messengers would probably know that. Lol.
> 
> \- Harry takes his confirmation. Gabe recommends he take either the name Michael or Anastasia. Harry, unsurprisingly takes the name Michael.
> 
> \- Harry visits Gabe for the last time and confesses that he doesn't think he's going to survive the upcoming war. He admits that he worries he's going to go to Hell and Gabe tells him that God will forgive him no matter what. Harry admits that he should have chosen the name Anastasia for his confirmation. Gabriel calls him Anastasius after Harry has left and prays to his Father that Harry doesn't live up the name.
> 
> Saint Michael is the Patron Saint of Soldiers
> 
> Saint Anastasia is the Patron Saint of Martyrs (read into that what you will…)
> 
> Anastasius is the male form of Anastasia.
> 
> Word of the Chapter: Sommarplåga (Swedish - also, someone pointed out that I'd spelt it wrong because I'm a moron! Thank you for that!) - literally means 'summer torment', the song of the summer - and you will scream if you hear it played one more time. We've all had this, right? God knows what we'll be tortured with this year. Summer, btw, seems to have skipped Britain entirely thus far. Not too shocking. We had two years of decent summers so we were starting to get a bit greedy. Bring on the rain and floods! *groans*


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is later than I had hoped! I've had a bloody hectic couple of weeks! For one, my cat gave birth to kittens and hasn't taken to motherhood quite so naturally as anyone had hoped, and also my hayfever is really making a damn good attempt at my life. Still here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter Two

**San Diego. 2nd June, 2008**

Harry jerked slightly and looked at Castiel in shock when he appeared in a motel room somewhere in America. He glanced down and noticed that his bags were also in the room and then looked back at Castiel and Uriel, who appeared in the room seconds later.

"Er... huh, maybe you should teach the wizards that. Sure as hell beats apparating," Harry commented with a weak smile, getting a smaller smile from Castiel and a sneer from Uriel.

"You will go to this apartment in two days time and dispose of the woman in there by any means you deem necessary," Uriel told him, handing over a piece of paper, which Harry numbly took.

"What? I agreed to help this Sam Winchester, not kill people. Why the hell am I being told to do that?"

"I will 'convince' Samuel Winchester to hire a prostitute, this is the address of the woman. You are to take her place. You only need to make it so that she is not there so that you can meet Sam," Uriel told him and Harry chuckled dryly and looked at the address.

"A prostitute called _Angel_? Kinda... ironic is it not? So I'm going to pose as Angel and make Sam think he has hired a male prostitute as opposed to a female one? _And_ you want me to seduce him? Why?"

"You need a way to meet him and for him to trust you. It is our understanding that humans trust the ones they have sex with," Castiel pointed out making Harry groan and close his eyes in frustration.

"Hearing an angel say sex is just wrong. And creepy. And you have got the wrong information. No one trusts prostitutes. Hell we barely trust ourselves! Sam will not trust me just because I coerced him into having sex with me," Harry told them, opening his eyes to look at Castiel.

"Oh. You will still have to try."

"I'm being told by an angel to seduce someone. Oh God, can my life get any weirder? This is all your fault you now!" Harry called out looking at the ceiling, much to the angels hidden amusement.

"We have told you that whatever you have to do now is in the name of God and you will be forgiven for. All your past and future sins have been absolved."

"Brilliant, really. But it still doesn't get rid of the guilt I am feeling! Even if I am doing it for a good reason! Hello! I lived the whole line 'the road to Hell is paved with good intentions'! I do not look good with a tan. Besides, I'm a Catholic (technically), all we know is guilt," Harry stated dryly and both angels looked at him in confusion. "Humour is lost on you two, isn't it?"

"You will be at that address in two days time, Harry Potter," Uriel told him and then left, leaving Harry gaping at where he had been and Castiel to look around the room they were in in interest.

"How do you work with him? I mean, seriously? He's a cock," Harry stated and Castiel turned to look at him silently. "Any reason you stayed behind? Need me to teach you some things? 'Cause let me tell you, that body you're currently inhabiting is kinda hot."

Castiel looked at him in shock and then shook his head, which made Harry grin in amusement before he then leant down and picked up one of his bags to take it over to the bed to look through it.

"So... what does Angel offer? Service wise I mean? I'm guessing Sam won't state whether or not he wants her prepared or not, right? Ha," Harry feebly laughed looking at Castiel, who just looked confused.

"I do not know what you mean," Castiel finally admitted and Harry sighed, wondering how to explain the ways of prostitution to an angel. Who was probably a virgin. Oh dear.

"Right. Erm... some clients ask for specific things. When two males have sex, the one who is the bottom, er... who will be receiving the pleasure so to speak, well they have to be stretched, so... you know... it fits without tearing and causing the bottom some injury. Following?"

"I think so."

"Good, well some clients prefer for the male escort or prostitute if you'd rather, well they prefer for them to come already stretched, or prepared, whilst others, they'd rather do the preparation themselves. So, I kinda need to know which Sam would prefer," Harry stated finally, feeling highly uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Oh. Sam has not slept with another male before. I would think he would be unsure as to how to prepare another male," Castiel told him and Harry threw him an amused grin.

"Thank you. Guess then that I will prepare myself for him then. So then, Castiel, any other reason you are here, other than to get tips of the trade from me."

"I have come to give you your card for your bank account."

"Er... I don't have a bank account. I avoid them so I don't have to pay taxes. That would be why I used the lock box in London, you know, the one you took me too to take some money out of."

"We needed somewhere to pay you. At the end of each day that you are with Sam Winchester, eighteen hundred dollars will be paid into that account for you to do with as you wish." Castiel told him, handing him a credit card, which Harry took and looked at curiously.

"Fine. Do they even pay taxes in America?"

"I do not know."

"No don't suppose angels have to worry about taxes and shit. Anything else you need to tell me?"

"Not at this current point in time. I will find you should I need to tell you anything else. Call for me should you need me at all." Castiel told him and then disappeared from the room.

"Wait! Damn, how am I to know how big Sam is? This is such a bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Why do I have to get dragged into this? I'm still blaming you, you know," Harry muttered and began to search his clothes for something to wear in two days time.

* * *

**San Diego. 4th June, 2008**

Harry walked up to the door of Angel's apartment and knocked on it, grinning when he heard her curse and then call out for him to wait. Harry leant on the wall by the door and then stood up when the door opened and a peroxide blonde woman with rather large assets answered wearing a pair of crooked angel wings, which made Harry suppress a grin.

"Hi! You're early. Very early actually, like an hour early," Angel said, looking at him with a confused frown and Harry smiled widely at her and then walked into her apartment, Angel following behind him on her ridiculously high heels. Women like Angel gave prostitutes a bad name, Harry thought.

"Ah, I'm not Sam," Harry told her, turning to face her once he heard the door click shut.

"Oh? Then who are you and why are you here?"

"I'm really sorry about this. I really am, but well, I need to meet Sam, not you. So you have to go to sleep for a little while," Harry told her, much to her confusion. He then grabbed the cloth he had hidden in his back pocket with chloroform on it and shoved it over her mouth. "Really, really sorry about this. I am not wearing the wings hear me? Not wearing the wings. I would rock a halo though."

Angel went slack in his arms and Harry grumbled and dragged the body into the bathroom, dumping it in the bath and pulling the shower curtains to cover the body. Harry then walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror.

"Bad, bad person," Harry muttered, splashing some water onto his face and casting a wary glance at the bath before he left the bathroom.

Harry walked over to the bed and pulled his bag onto it, pulling out some lube, and placed it on the bedside table, he then quickly changed his clothes into something a little... tighter. He then sent a silent prayer, before stopping midway when he remembered it was his damned habit of speaking to God that had got him into this situation in the first place.

After checking the clock and seeing that he had about thirty minutes until Sam was expected to arrive. He walked into the kitchen area and looked in the fridge, making a sound of excitement when he found an unopened bottle of red wine.

Harry pulled the wine out of the fridge and opened it, pouring some into a glass and quickly downing it before filling the glass again.

"Should you not be sober for this meeting?" Harry spun around and saw Castiel standing in the kitchen with him.

"Castiel! Good to see you! And I'm getting drunk in the hopes that I can forget this ever happened and that I am a bad, bad person."

"Will Sam be less likely to sleep with you if you are inebriated?"

"Damn, you completely have a point there. Of course, he'd be more likely to sleep with me if _he_ was drunk. Think you can work some angel magic and get him drunk?"

"No."

"Yeah, didn't think you would. You just come here to stop me from drinking myself into a stupor?" Harry asked, moving the bottle away from him and taking a smaller sip from his glass.

"I came to make sure you did not fail in your task. You would have failed had you continued to get drunk."

"I wasn't going to get drunk, Cas. I was just getting a little liquid courage so to speak. Look, I'm nervous, alright? For one I don't actually know anything about Sam, not even how big he is."

"Big? He is about six foot six."

"Not what I meant, but six foot six?! Are you joking? He's a bloody giant! What did his mother sleep with a troll? Oh God, he's not ugly is he? I forgot to bring my Viagra."

"He is considered to be attractive by the female populace. And he is so tall because of certain things that occurred after his birth."

"What things? Seriously, I'm going to be lying back and letting this guy screw me, I need to know what is wrong with the guy! It's bad enough you're being very sketchy when I ask what I'm supposed to be preventing, don't hide anything else from me. Please Castiel!"

"He was fed demon blood when he was six months old. It gave him certain abilities as well as a weakness which you must prevent. It is your job to stop him from developing any more abilities."

"What kind of abilities?"

"He will be able to exorcise demons with just the use of his mind, and should he practise enough and also get something else, then he will be able to kill them as well."

"How is that a bad thing?"

"He would need to drink demon blood to access the full extent of his abilities."

"Shit. _That's_ my job, isn't it? Keep him from finding out that demon blood gives him scary but useful abilities. Does he know about demons and angels and so on?"

"He knows of demons and the supernatural, but he does not know angels exist. He prays though and does hope we exist. He is a hunter."

"A hunter? You've brought me to a _hunter_? I'm a bloody wizard! They kill my kind! Oh, good job Castiel, good job."

"He will not kill you. He has more reservations on what he kills than his brother."

"Brother? He has a brother? Why did you not tell me this? Am I to seduce the brother as well? Why not? I'm just a whore right? Why not just offer myself to everyone you need help from?" Harry spat angrily, taking a deep sip of wine and then glaring at Castiel, who shifted uncomfortably.

"You need not worry about Dean. I will explain more about him when the time comes. Sam is not with Dean at the moment however," Castiel reassured him, though the way he worded the whole thing made Harry look at him suspiciously.

"Right, well unless angels are voyeurs, you're gonna want to leave now. Sam will be arriving very soon if he's prompt," Harry told him, making a shooing gesture with his hands. Castiel sent him an indecipherable look then disappeared just in time, as there was a knock on the door seconds later, making Harry jump in surprise and then hide the wine and glass from view.

Harry walked over to the door, breathing deeply to calm his nerves and then opened it, trying not to grin at Sam's shocked and then quickly embarrassed expression when he answered.

"Oh! Is... is Angel not in?" Sam asked, looking at the door number to make sure he had the right apartment and shifting in his spot nervously.

"Maybe you should come in," Harry said, moving aside and letting Sam walk into the apartment and then shutting the door behind him softly, running his hands through his hair in nerves.

"So... Angel?"

"That would be me," Harry lied, smirking when Sam went bright red and opened his mouth to speak before shutting it with a click. "You thought I was a female, right?"

"Er... you sounded female when I rang."

"That would have been my madam that you spoke to."

"Madam?"

"It's nicer than pimp. So... would you like a drink?" Harry asked, walking past Sam and into the kitchen, grabbing a second glass and filling it with wine, before taking it back to Sam and handing it to him without waiting for an answer. Sam looked at the glass and then downed it nervously.

"I'm... I'm so sorry about this. I really am. I should just... I should just go," Sam said, holding his empty glass to Harry and looking back at the door. Harry rolled his eyes and stepped closer to Sam, looking up at the ridiculously tall man in front of him.

"Stay. I promise I don't bite. Unless you want me to, then I charge extra," Harry said, grinning widely at Sam's stunned expression. "Joke. I'm trying to lighten the mood a little."

"Oh. Really, I should go."

"Please, just... stay alright? We don't have to do anything if you don't want, but well, I've cleared my schedule for this and my madam is expecting me to be busy for the next two hours." Harry told him hoping for earnest, though not entirely sure he got it, it had been a while after all since he had had to be earnest.

"I... okay. I'll stay for a while. But... I've never... I don't..."

"You've never hired a prostitute before? You're not the first person who's a virgin at this, excuse the bad pun. It's my job to make you relaxed and entertained. So, take a seat and get relaxed," Harry told him with a grin, gently leading Sam to the couches and sitting him down. Sam just looked at him nervously and then nodded.

"Sorry."

"And stop saying sorry. Really this isn't your fault. I should have never changed my name when I got here."

"You changed your name?"

"Yeah, in London I used to go by Bambi. I'll go get you another drink." Harry told him, running his hand across Sam's shoulder as he walked away with Sam's empty glass in his hands. Harry quickly poured more wine into Sam's glass then took it back out to him and handed it to Sam.

"Er... thanks."

"No problem. Look, I'm just going to freshen up in the bathroom, I'll be out in a couple of seconds. If you do make a runner, think you can leave the money on the coffee table?" Harry asked with a grin, getting a slightly weaker one from Sam.

"Sure."

"Thanks!" Harry called out and then walked into the bathroom and closed the door before leaning against it and only just restraining himself from slamming his head against it.

"For the record, even I know this is wrong. It would also be a lot easier if I was a veela," Harry muttered, glancing across at the bath once again and then quickly straightening up in alarm and glancing upwards warily. "That was _not_ an invitation for you to turn me into one, if you can do that sort of thing. I find I rather like being a human most of the time.

"Right, well I had better get started on operation 'Seduce Sam Winchester.' I am so going to Hell for this," Harry muttered, the irony of that remark not escaping him. "Christ on a bike, I am a male prostitute how has been bought by Heaven. Can my life get anymore screwed up? I'm so sorry for what I am about to do to you Sam Winchester. So, so sorry. I'm a bad, bad man and I'm going straight to Hell."

With that Harry turned and faced the door, throwing one last glance at the unconscious Angel and then opened the door, managing to hide his surprise that Sam was still there. Perhaps seducing the man wouldn't be so hard.

"So, still here, huh? Nice to see," Harry said with a grin at Sam, moving to sit on the couch next to him.

"I figured I should at least stay for the whole time I am paying for, right?" Sam asked with a small smile and Harry nodded and moving to bring his feet on the couch and turning to face Sam so that his back was resting against the chair arm.

"So, you've already admitted that you don't normally go to prostitutes, which I can so understand, I mean, you are very hot. Trust me, I know this kind of thing. So what do you normally do?" Harry asked him, slowly moving his foot until it was resting against Sam's thigh without Sam either noticing or just not caring.

"Oh, er... I just, well at the moment, I don't work. I've just been... just been travelling I suppose."

"Huh, I've never actually been anywhere but London, Scotland and here. Oh! And Wales. So what's travelling like?"

"It's alright I guess. What's your story? Why are you here?"

"I'm a prostitute, the reason I'm here is pretty clear, isn't it?" Harry asked with a smile, which Sam returned. Harry shifted again and brushed his foot against Sam's leg, before moving to sit on the couch properly, sitting next to Sam so that their shoulders were almost brushing.

"I meant San Diego, why did you leave London?"

"I needed a change. Simple as that. Actually, I was offered a better deal here. So here I am, in San Diego. It's nice here, I suppose."

"Didn't you have friends back home? Family? People you miss?" Sam asked, shifting slightly to look at Harry, who just shrugged and then shook his head.

"Nope. No one. Not anyone that mattered or would have missed me back anyway. You don't make friends when you're a prostitute. Relationships don't go well once they find out you charge people for sex by the hour. If I had any friends, they dropped me as soon as they found out what I did."

"So... you have no one? Why do you do this then?" Sam asked him, and Harry got the strangest feeling that Sam was asking for another reason other than wanting to know about Harry's past.

"Honestly? I like it. I love sex! I love meeting new people but not having to actually have any commitments. Oh, and I like not having to pay taxes. That's always a bonus." Harry added, shocking a laugh out of Sam.

"Do you... do you have female customers as well?"

"Clients, they're called clients. And yeah I do. Not as often as men, men have fewer scruples against paying for sex, than women do. But I sleep with women as well," Harry admitted with a shrug, moving to lean against Sam and grinning when Sam didn't show any sign he was against it.

"Which do you prefer?"

"Men. Women tend to get clingy. They don't always take well when asked to leave, whereas in most cases, men leave without even having to be asked."

"Right. So... what is the weirdest thing you have been asked to do?" Sam asked him, and Harry twisted to look up at Sam.

"You're asking a lot of questions. What, you thinking about taking a change in career?" Harry asked him with an amused grin, which widened when Sam looked at him, surprised and a little embarrassed.

"No! Not that there's anything wrong with it, I just... I just don't think I would be a good er..."

"Prostitute? Male escort? Rent boy? Whore? Hooker? Take your pick. I prefer the first two personally. And as for your questions," Harry paused for a second actually considering what he was asked and deciding to go with something relatively innocent. He'd leave coprophilia and scarfing for the third date. "Squishing. That was weirdest thing I've done."

"What's squishing?"

"Its... when people get off on food. Like making a mess with food and playing with it. Smearing it on their bodies and so on. It's actually kinda fun, but very weird. That scene in American Pie? Yeah, it happens."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Seriously. Wanna give it a try?" Harry asked with a mischievous smile and Sam chuckled, shaking his head.

"No. I think I'll give it a pass."

"Want to give something else a try?" Harry asked him curiously, moving to rest against Sam, who looked at him startled and wide-eyed.

"Er... I... I don't know," Sam admitted, which actually surprised Harry, who was expecting Sam to say no.

"How about we start slow and you can stop anytime it gets too much," Harry told him gently, moving to kneel on the couch facing Sam and placing a hand on Sam's.

"How slow?" Sam asked him quietly, swallowing heavily and looking at Harry nervously. Harry just smiled at him and then leant closer to Sam so that their lips were almost brushing.

"Is kissing slow enough?" Harry whispered, looking into Sam's eyes. Sam nodded jerkily and Harry moved forwards, pressing his lips against Sam's and letting his eyes flutter shut. He moaned softly when Sam brought his hands up to place them on Harry's shoulders before moving to deepen the kiss, running his tongue along Harry's lips. Harry opened his mouth and ran his tongue along Sam's, running a hand through Sam's hair and pressing the other on Sam's chest to stay balanced. Finally Harry pulled back slightly in need of air and opened his eyes to look at Sam, who was breathing slightly heavier. "Slower or more?" Harry asked him softly and Sam moved a hand to rest it on Harry's lower back and pulled Harry nearer to him.

"More," Sam muttered, moving to kiss Harry again. Harry pulled back though and moved so that he straddled Sam, then pressed his lips to Sam's lips, kissing him deeply, pleased when Sam moaned quietly. He felt Sam harden and moved his hips to brush against Sam, moving his lips away from Sam's lips down to his neck, just below his ear.

Harry licked along the shell of Sam's ear and then nipped the lobe before sucking on it softly, grinning when Sam gasped and moved his hands to grip Harry's hips. Harry pulled back and looked at Sam, somewhat nervously.

"Too fast?" Harry asked him, nervously nibbling on his lower lip before releasing it with a small smile when he noticed it had Sam's attention.

"No. No, not too fast," Sam told him, shaking his head and Harry shot him an amused grin.

"Well, then I guess I should give you something worth paying for, no?" Harry asked, running his hands up Sam's chest and moving his shirt off of Sam's shoulders, and pressing a kiss to his neck. Sam moved so that Harry could remove the shirt and then ran his own hands underneath Harry's shirt. Sam ran his hands around to Harry's stomach and then slowly began to unbutton Harry's shirt, whilst Harry moved his hands to run them under Sam's t-shirt across his stomach.

Harry moved away from Sam slightly, letting his shirt drop off of his shoulders and onto the floor, before lifting Sam's t-shirt up and over his head, throwing it on the floor with his own shirt.

"You okay?" Harry asked him, moving his hands over Sam's chest soothingly, darting forwards to lick one of Sam's nipples, before nipping it and soothing it again with his tongue, looking up at Sam in question when Sam placed a hand in Harry's hair.

"Yeah, I'm good. This is good," Sam muttered somewhat disjointedly much to Harry's amusement.

"Good, then I'm still good at my job and I don't feel so bad about how much I charge," Harry said with a grin, moving to kiss Sam again and gasping when Sam thrust up against him. "You want to go into the bedroom?"

"No, stay here," Sam murmured against his lips and Harry grinned and rocked his hips against Sam's, getting a gasp from the taller male.

"We can stay here then. Sex on a couch is by far not the most kinkiest of places I've had sex. Nor the most uncomfortable," Harry told him, getting a chuckle from Sam, before Harry moved back a bit to start to unbutton Sam's jeans, which Harry admitted silently, was probably _not_ going slow, though Sam didn't seem to be complaining.

Harry moved off of Sam and unbuttoned his own jeans before slowly lowering them down his legs and kicking them off, hearing Sam's shocked gasp at his lack of underwear. Harry smiled at him, feeling shy for some reason for possibly the first time in six years. He then moved forwards and helped Sam remove his own jeans and boxers.

Harry moved back to straddle Sam, before cursing and moving back off of Sam, much to Sam's confusion.

"Sorry, I'll be back in a second. We need lube, which I left in the bedroom," Harry admitted with a sheepish shrug, then quickly walked over to the bedroom and grabbed the tub of lube and a condom and then practically ran back into the living room, where Sam was leaning back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. "You okay?"

Sam jerked and looked up and over at Harry, throwing him a grin before nodding. Harry smiled at him and held up the lube, walking over to stand in front of Sam.

"You sure about this?" Harry asked him and Sam glanced at him then nodded. Harry smiled warmly at him and then moved to straddle him once more, placing the lube on the couch next to them. Harry shifted slightly to brush his erection against Sam's, hitching his breath and leaning forwards to kiss Sam's neck before moving up and kissing Sam's lips deeply.

Harry blindly moved his hand to the side and grabbed the tub of lube, pulling back from the kiss to open the tub and dip his fingers inside of it. He shot Sam a quick grin before leaning forwards again to kiss Sam, whilst moving his hand behind and starting to prepare and stretch himself.

He moaned softly when he added three fingers and shifted to brush against his prostate, before he deemed himself stretched enough and pulled away from kissing Sam to slowly roll the condom on Sam and then scoop more lube out of the tub and ran his hand and the lube over Sam's impressive erection. Sam groaned and threw his head back against the couch, thrusting up into Harry's hand.

Harry then lifted up and held Sam's penis before lowering himself on it, gasping and letting his eyes flutter shut as he slowly lowered himself down on Sam, feeling himself get stretched more than he had for a long while, if ever. Once Sam was fully sheathed inside of him, Harry stayed still and opened his eyes to look at Sam, who was breathing heavily and had moved his hands to clutch at the couch. Harry shifted forwards a bit, gasping and letting out a moan when it made Sam brush against his prostate, before kissing Sam's chest and moving his hands to clutch hold of Sam's.

"Want me to move?" Harry asked Sam softly, licking Sam's chest and neck but making sure not to move too much to overwhelm Sam. Sam squeezed their hands and nodded, his eyes still clenched shut. Harry pressed a quick kiss to Sam's neck and then moved, biting his lip as he felt Sam move inside of him and Sam started to thrust his own hips to meet Harry's movements before Harry was soon gasping and had rested his head on Sam's chest. Sam had removed his hands from Harry's and moved them to grip Harry's waist, helping Harry move on him.

Harry soon pulled back from where he was resting on Sam's chest and cried out as his orgasm hit, clenching his muscles around Sam and bringing Sam's orgasm, Sam thrusting up into Harry and throwing his head back to cry out in pleasure. Harry slumped forwards and rested against Sam's chest, bringing his hands up to play with Sam's hair and trying to catch his breath. Sam, also breathing heavily, slowly ran his hands up and down Harry's back before Harry finally moved back from Sam and climbed off of him.

"You alright?" Harry asked him, leaning over to pull his jeans on quickly before stepping between Sam's legs and running a hand over Sam's chest. He then reached down and pull the used condom off and placed it in the bin, which, much to Harry's amusement, was at the side of the couch. She keeps a bin there but doesn't shove condoms or lube down the side of the couch. So strange.

"I'm great. You should so charge more," Sam told him, getting a shocked chuckle from Harry.

"I'll take that as a backwards compliment," Harry told him, bending down and kissing Sam lightly on the lips.

"I should go."

"Probably," Harry admitted with a shrug, not entirely sure when the real Angel would be waking up and not wanting Sam or even himself to be there when she did.

"So, how much do I owe you?" Sam asked, standing up from the couch and grabbing his own jeans, pulling them on and then pulling his t-shirt on over his head.

"Call this a freebie. I'd feel kinda bad charging you when you expected a woman," Harry admitted, mentally adding that the damned angels can take up to bill.

"I can't do that!"

"Sure you can, now grab your shirt, walk to the door and when you next feel the need to ring for a prostitute, ask the gender first," Harry said in amusement, ushering Sam to the door, placing his shirt and boxers in Sam's arms.

"But I – "

"Sam, accept this as a freebie, a gift, and don't question it. Look, here's my number, my personal number. Should you wish to hook up again then give me a call and we can discuss a price then. Stay safe, yeah?" Harry said, opening the door for Sam, who looked at him oddly and then nodded, taking the piece of paper Harry had given him with his number on it and leaving the apartment. Harry closed the door behind him and then rested against it, finally giving into the urge to bang his head against it. "I'm going to Hell. Uriel! Castiel! You both owe me twelve hundred dollars for this!" Harry hissed out, before pushing up off the door and moving over to his clothes.

Once he was fully dressed, he went into the bedroom and shoved the lube into his bag and then zipped it up and walked out of the bedroom before leaving the apartment completely.

Harry entered his own motel room, silently sending up his thanks that he hadn't bumped into Sam and closed the door, walking over to his bed and placing his backpack back into his larger duffle bag.

"We will not pay you for what you did for Sam Winchester. It was your choice to refuse payment, so you cannot charge us for it," Harry spun around and glared at Uriel and then Castiel.

"Bit of warning! Stop sneaking up on me! Seriously! Stop it! And what do you want now? Besides refusing to pay me. Because all I want to do is go to sleep and relax. Sam was not small by any stretches of the imagination, and I'm kinda sore," Harry told them bluntly, not surprised to see that it didn't get any reaction from the two in front of him.

"We came to congratulate you on succeeding in the first task. Sam may not realise it yet, but he has come to trust you somewhat."

"What? That guy is an idiot. Why the hell does he trust me?"

"You told him stuff about yourself but did not ask him any invasive questions. He respected that, even more so when you honestly answered his own invasive question that he asked you," Castiel answered him and Harry rolled his eyes.

"How is he still alive? Seriously, how?"

"He had his brother to lean on and to protect him from the more unpleasant aspects of the world. He has not completely learnt not to trust most people you meet. Though he is less trusting than most people. For a hunter however, he is the most trusting."

"Great. And that's the second time you've mentioned a brother. Where is he? Why isn't _he_ watching over Sam and preventing him from becoming an addict?"

"He cannot. He sold his soul in order to bring Sam back to life a year ago," Uriel told him and Harry gaped at him, then looked at Castiel, who seemed more forthcoming with the information.

"Sold his soul? So he's in Hell? Fuck! How am I supposed to stop Sam from falling when he's gonna be thinking it's his fault his brother is in Hell? And how am I supposed to do this without letting on that I know all this?"

"That is for you to find out. Just do not let him fall or you will reap the repercussions. You will not like what will happen should you fail," Uriel threatened him before vanishing from the room, leaving Harry alone with Castiel once more.

"So that's the plan, huh? Hope I don't fail and if I do, punish me? Great plan. Very forgiving and holy. You know, I'm beginning to think the Bible is a load of bull," Harry bitched and Castiel shot him a sad look, neither one noticed the small rumble of thunder that sounded in the background.

"You are losing your faith."

"What little I had of it, yeah, I am. The God I wanted to believe in didn't advocate hiring whores to seduce young men into not getting addicted to demon blood. It's wrong, Castiel. I shouldn't be doing this! That guy is ripping himself apart for what his brother did to save him and you're making me _seduce_ him? I don't know if I can do this anymore," Harry admitted sinking down to sit on the bed in the room and placing his head in his hands.

"You must. I do not want to see you punished. I find myself liking you. So I do not want to have to punish you for not following orders."

"Alright. I don't think I can be paid for this anymore though, Castiel. It's not right. And when that comes from a whore, then you know it's really, really wrong."

"We will continue to pay you, but you do not have to spend the money. However, you may find you will need it."

"Can I not just work for it like I have for the past six years? Take it from horny old men instead of you. At least then I won't feel like you are paying me to stay close to Sam."

"But we are."

"I know that. Oh forget it. Fine, I get it, I'm being paid by God to seduce some poor, innocent mortal hunter all for the greater good, right? Always the fucking greater good!" Harry exclaimed, laughing somewhat hysterically and tugging at his hair in stress. Castiel looked at him and frowned.

"You must not lost your faith in my father. He is doing what He thinks needs to be done to save the human race."

"I don't think I _want_ to believe in a God that does things like that Cas. More to the point, I don't think I _can_." Another, somewhat louder, rumble of thunder could be heard above them though once more, neither one really paid it much mind, though Harry did wonder if it was a sign of a big storm.

"He will never let you down, Harry. And you will be rewarded for this in Heaven."

"Never let me down? You know what my life was like since my parent's deaths. I think He let me down as soon as I was dumped on the Dursley's front door. I've never felt loved by Him, never. And this, this just solidifies that. Instead of showing me a way to better myself, He forces me to whore myself out to gain the trust of a stranger. Yeah, really loving."

"He does what he has to for the good of everyone."

"Yeah I know. Better the good of the whole than the good of the one. Shame I just always happen to be the one. It's alright, Castiel, I'll try to keep my faith. I'll never stop believing, kinda hard to do when you speak to angels on a regular basis, but all the same I don't know if I'll ever be able to love Him. I'm sorry. I really am."

"You shouldn't apologise for something you cannot control. I will just have to try and show you all the good God has done. I will make it my personal mission in my spare time to try and help you regain your faith."

"You do that, Cas. And I'll try to be receptive to it." Harry told the angel with a small smile. Castiel shot him a smaller smile and then disappeared from the room. "Sleep. I need sleep."

* * *

**San Diego. 6th June, 2008**

Harry spun around when Castiel appeared with a cough, which made Harry grin and look at Castiel curiously.

"Thanks for the warning and something you need, or are you here to start on our lessons of how great God is?" Harry asked, titling his head to the side and grinning in amusement at Castiel.

"Your help is required. Sam is in trouble and you must get to him before the demon, Ruby does."

"Ruby? Who's that?" Harry asked, even as he moved to his second bag and began to pull out several different weapons and strapped them to his body. He then turned to look at Castiel holding his tachi, which he has gotten as a replacement for Geoff.

"She is a demon Sam made friends with a couple of months back. You cannot let her save him and regain contact with him," Castiel told him and Harry nodded, grabbing his pirate coat from all those years back, and pulling it on before picking his sword back up and walking over to Castiel.

"You gonna tell me where he is, or are you gonna take me to him?" Harry asked him curiously and Castiel looked down at him and raised his hand.

"I will take you to him," Castiel told him before placing two fingers to Harry's forehead.

Harry looked around him and saw that he was just outside of an abandoned house and could hear fighting coming from inside. Well, he said fighting, but it sounded awfully one-sided.

"Guess Sam's in th—warning me when you are leaving would be a good idea as well," Harry grumbled seeing that Castiel had left him. He walked up to the house silently and nudged the door open before grumbling under his breath when it barely moved. "Christ, I've got to do all the bloody work, haven't I?"

Harry finally managed to squeeze through the door, wondering how Sam had gotten in there in the first place, and stumbled slightly when his leg got stuck on a protruding nail in the doorframe.

Harry straightened out and wondered over the intelligence of demons that no one had actually come to investigate the muttered cursing and scuffing as he had had a small battle with the nail over who had ownership of his trouser leg. Checking his sword to see that he hadn't damaged it in any way - breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was fine - he then walked through the hall towards where the sounds of who he assumed was Sam getting the stuffing beaten out of him.

Standing in front of the door, Harry glanced at the ceiling and sent a pointed look at it then kicked the door open, stunning the three demons in the room and Sam. He moved quickly, using his sword to cut across the throat of the first demon, smirking when a cloud of smoke flew out of the body's mouth and left the room. He then pulled out a throwing knife and threw it at another, cursing loudly and rather inventively when the demon ducked.

"That had better not be blunted you waste of demon energy! I like those knives. Fuck, where the Hell did you come from?" Harry asked, ducking as a fourth demon tried to tackle him, Harry only just managing to dodge out of the way. He swung his sword around again, managing to slice into the face of another demon, causing it to fall away and hold its freely bleeding face. "Wish I'd bloody listened when I was told that damned Latin chant crap. Er, is there anything specific I'm supposed to say or just random holy shit in Latin? I can do random holy Latin!" Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder at Sam, who actually gaped at him before rolling his eyes and shaking his head, which Harry decided to take as being told it couldn't be just random words in Latin. And not Sam mentally calling him a moron.

Harry ducked as another demon swung a fist at him, and dropped his sword onto the floor to pull out his gun instead, firing a bullet into the newest demons forehead and grinning when it dropped to the floor and black smoke escaped the mouth and left the building.

"So... a little tied up?" Harry asked Sam as he ducked another punch aimed at him from a demon, the one with a sliced and diced face, and pulled the trigger to put a bullet close range into the demons skull, wrinkling his nose when the bullet exploded out of the back of his skull, spraying a disgusted Sam with the blood.

"Fuck, I hope he doesn't lick his damned lips," Harry muttered, getting a funny look from the one remaining demon, then putting a grin on his face and turning to face Sam. "Sorry 'bout that!"

"S'okay," Sam called out, struggling against his bonds to try and get free, before giving it up. Harry looked at the demon and raised an eyebrow at it.

"Look, I don't wanna fight you and you probably don't wanna fight me. How about you leave the body and we all go home and sleep? Sleep is good. _Do_ demons sleep?" Harry asked randomly and both Sam and the demon looked at him as if he was crazy.

"We don't have need to sleep no," The demon told him, making Sam gape at it then turn to gape at Harry.

"Huh, bet that's convenient. So, how about it? Leave the body?"

"Fine. We will leave the hunter alone," the demon told him and then the body opened its mouth in a mockery of a scream and black smoke billowed out of it and left the room, the body collapsing on the floor unconscious.

Harry nudged the body with his toe and then turned to Sam, nodding his head at the body. "Think it's still alive?"

"Check for a pulse," Sam suggested and Harry looked at the body then crouched next to it and placed his fingers on the throat.

"Huh, don't feel one, but then that doesn't mean anything with me. I once said I didn't feel a pulse with a client and then he snored. Which was a good thing as generally corpses don't pay."

"You sound like you've had a lot of dead clients."

"You'd be surprised. Sometimes _le petit mort_ becomes _le final mort_ ," Harry told him dryly, making Sam snort and then shift to show that he was still tied up. "Oh! Sorry. Right, hang on," Harry muttered, pulling out his machete and moving behind Sam to cut through the ropes. Sam stood up once Harry had cut through all of the ropes and rubbed his wrists, hissing in pain and holding himself in such a way that suggested to Harry that he had at least badly bruised his ribs, if not broken them.

"Hey thanks, Angel, er... Bambi... which do you prefer? Angel or Bambi?" Sam asked, much to Harry's amusement. Harry grinned at him and then moved to pick up his throwing knife, watching as Sam picked up his sword and looked at it closely.

"Of the two? Bambi I suppose. But Sam? You can just call me Harry," Harry told him, taking the sword delicately from Sam's hands and bent down to wipe the blood off onto the trouser leg of one of the bodies.

"Harry?"

"It's my real name. You didn't actually think my parents had called me Bambi, did you?"

"Er..."

"How cruel do you think they were?"

"Well..."

"Oh Sammy-Sam-Sam, I've got a lot to teach you about the world of prostitution. In the mean time however, let's get you back to where I'm staying and get you cleaned up. Come on," Harry said, moving to help Sam through the hall of the house before they came to the front door that Harry glared at. "Stupid door."

"What's the door done to you?" Sam asked in pained amusement and Harry glanced at him before glaring once more at the door then kicking it until it was nothing more than a pile of splinters.

"That was strangely satisfying," Harry admitted moving back to Sam, who was leaning on the wall watching him in amusement, and helping him up and out of the door. "Ah shit," Harry muttered once they were out of the house.

"What?"

"I have no idea how to get back to the motel I'm staying in," Harry admitted, cursing Castiel for abandoning him at this house without telling him how to get back.

"Er... what's the name?"

"No idea. Red Lodge? Real Lodge? Something Lodge."

"Ridge Log?"

"Yeah! That! How'd you know that?" Harry asked, even though he knew exactly how Sam knew.

"Er... that's where I'm staying. Why are you staying there and not your house?"

"Ah... I'll explain all once you have been patched up. Do you remember how to get there, because I don't?"

"Can you drive?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah, I know how to drive, but I don't actually have a licence. You don't really need one in London," Harry admitted with a shrug when Sam looked at him strangely. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, we can get back to... my car and then drive back to the motel. How the hell did you get here if you can't drive?"

"I _can_ drive remember. Anyway, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Let's just say it involved a man, a deal and a coat and leave it at that. Besides, you'll soon learn I'm somewhat scatty. I blame all the Viagra I've taken over the years."

"Viagra?"

"Yeah, sometimes it's just plain hard to get it up, you know? With men it's not so important as with women, but all the same, most men prefer to see that the person they are screwing has an erection. I suppose there's got to be some side effects eventually."

"How long _have_ you been taking it?" Sam asked him as he subtly moved them towards where he had parked the car.

"Er... six years give or take a month."

"Six years? How old _are_ you?" Sam asked him, moving stiffly and pulling out some car keys before handing them to Harry.

"Huh, well on my ID, I'm twenty-six."

"Okay... how old are you really?"

"Twenty-three."

"You've been an escort since you were _seventeen_?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Though to be fair, I was only two months off my eighteenth birthday."

"That strangely enough, doesn't make it sound any better," Sam told him dryly as they finally reached the car. Harry led Sam to the passenger side and propped him against the car as he opened the door and then helped Sam get inside.

Harry then walked over to the drivers side and climbed in the car, grumbling about freakishly tall people under his breath as he had to sit on the edge of the seat to actually reach the pedals, much to Sam's amusement.

"Don't laugh. It's not my fault you're a freak," Harry muttered, starting the car and then wincing when it jerked and he stalled. "Fuck."

"You can't drive, can you?" Sam asked him dryly and Harry blushed and dropped his head onto the steering wheel.

"No."

"Oh dear."

"'Oh dear'? That's all you can say? No 'why the fuck did you say you could drive'? or 'what are we going to do now'? Nothing? Just 'oh dear'?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Alright, here's the deal, I'm going to give you a crash course on driving. Thankfully its like two in the morning so there will be hardly anyone on the roads," Sam muttered, leaning back in the chair and wincing in pain, before he turned his head to look at Harry, who was frowning whilst pushing down the pedals experimentally. "Ready?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Go ahead. What do I do?" Harry asked him, placing his hands on the steering wheel and looking over at Sam, who chuckled and shook his head.

"Dean would have a heart attack if he could see this." Sam muttered and Harry shot him a look, before blinking innocently and throwing him a confused look.

"Who's Dean?"

"No one. So first thing you do. Turn the car on for starters."

"Car on. Got ya," Harry said with a nod of his head and started the car.

"Don't press any pedals yet," Sam told him and Harry moved his feet away from the temptation.

"Don't touch the pedals, righto. Ooooh, what if I crash?"

"Then we run from the scene of the crime."

"Right. Good plan. So what do I do now? Because surely this is using petrol. Does the car use petrol when it's not moving?" Harry asked suddenly and Sam sent him a strange look.

"Perhaps you should cut back on the Viagra," Sam told him mildly, grinning when Harry shot a glare at him.

"Perhaps I should have left you to get your arse kicked," Harry sniped back and Sam chuckled before groaning in pain. "Look, we need to get you back to the motel so that you can get cleaned up, so teach me to drive maestro."

They finally got back to the motel after a rocky start when they were nearly wrapped around a tree due to Harry mistaking the accelerator for the break and Harry nearly crashing them off a bridge when he hit the indicator by accident and panicked when he tried to turn it off. Harry wonkily parked the car in front of the motel (read: abandoned the car where it was and called it parking) and then climbed out of the car and dashed over to Sam's side, opening the door and helping him get out.

"Crap. I left the keys in the ignition. Um... just stay here a second and I'll be right back," Harry told Sam, helping him rest against the car and then running back round the car and reaching in to pull the keys out. He then ran back round to Sam and let him lean on him heavily.

"You'd make a rubbish nurse," Sam commented as Harry helped Sam up to the second floor and down the corridor to his room.

"I dunno, I've played a nurse twice and both clients seemed very satisfied with it, once for an actual doctor and you'd think they'd know best. Actually, thinking about it, it was a little weird a doctor requesting a whore to be a nurse. Think he was projecting? Anyway! Hush and let me open the door," Harry scolded him lightly, then fished out his room key and unlocked it, before helping Sam inside and leading him over to the bed to sit him down.

Harry then walked back over to the door and closed it, taking off his coat and dumping it next to the bed. He then knelt down and pulled his large bag to him, opening it, rooting around and pulling out a smaller bag that chinked with the sound of glass bottles tapping together.

"What's in there?"

"Hmm? Oh, something to help you heal. Crap, where are the bandages? I know they're in here somewhere," Harry muttered, searching through his bag once again and then making a triumphant sound when he found them. "Right, let's get your shirt off, and have no fear, I won't hit on you tonight."

"That's probably a good thing as I'm broke," Sam admitted with a small laugh and Harry shot him a look.

"I wouldn't have charged you. You hadn't booked me after all and as shocking as it may seem, whore's don't only have sex with people paying them. Now, come on, shirt off," Harry said slightly shortly, before gently helping Sam take his shirts off. "Sheesh, how many layers do you wear?"

"Shut up," Sam grumbled good-naturedly, groaning in pain as Harry lifted his shirt over his head.

"Okay, so I'm going to rub some salve on your skin which will make your skin feel a little tight at first, but it will heal up your bruises in a jiffy," Harry told him, reaching to the side and pulling a jar of purple cream from the small bag. He then scooped some of the cream out and gently began to smooth it over Sam's chest where the bruising was.

"That feels weird."

"Yeah, but it will only be for an hour or so. Now let's bandage you up," Harry muttered, picking up the bandages and then slowly wrapping them around Sam's chest.

Once finished, he reached into his small bag once more and pulled out a smaller jar of a white cream and opened it. "This will help heal your cuts," Harry told him, and then gently smoothed the cream over any cuts Sam had on his face and body, then picked up his hands and smoothed it over his abused knuckles. "All done. I don't have a lollypop for you though, sorry."

"Hilarious," Sam grumbled and Harry grinned at him widely.

"I know, I should be a comedian, but I love my job far too much to quit it. Now then, let's get move you back to lie on the bed properly to allow your ribs to rest. Careful," Harry said, helping Sam shuffle back along the bed, tugging the sheets out from under him. Harry then unlaced and took off Sam's boots, dropping them on the floor before tugging the sheet over him to cover him up.

"What are you?" Sam asked sleepily and Harry shot him a confused and slightly anxious look.

"I have no idea what you mean. Get some sleep, Sam. We'll talk more in the morning," Harry promised, placing his healing salves into his bag, which he then put back into his main bag. He then stood up and walked over to the other side of the bed and lay down on top of the covers, shifting on to his side to look at Sam, who had actually followed his advice and had fallen asleep. "I'm really sorry for what I've done," Harry whispered, then closed his eyes and tried to fall to sleep himself.

* * *

**San Diego. 7th June, 2008.**

Harry woke up slowly and frowned when he felt that someone was sleeping curled up around him. Even though he was in the profession he was in, he had never actually slept with someone in the same bed as him, so this was a strange experience for him. He slowly shifted and turned so that he could see whoever was in bed with him and came face to face with Sam, and Harry remembered what had happened the night before, including his impromptu driving lesson.

Harry gently removed Sam's arm from his waist and sat up on his bed, running his eyes over Sam's body to check him over for any injuries, purely in a professional manner, which admittedly, given his profession, was probably not at all innocent. Harry stretched and then climbed out of the bed and walked over to his bag and quickly changed his clothes into a baggy pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then glanced at Sam, who was still out of it.

"Hmm... what to do, what to do?" Harry muttered, nibbling on his lip and then walking over to Sam's side of the bed. He was reaching into his pocket when someone coughed behind him and Harry spun around to see Castiel and Uriel behind him.

"Stealing from him was not part of the agreement," Uriel pointed out blandly and Harry flushed then glared at him.

"I'm not stealing from him. What the hell are you doing here anyway? Do you _want_ Sam to see you? Are you idiots?" Harry hissed quietly, shooting a nervous glance at Sam.

"He will not awaken until we wish him to. We wished to congratulate you on succeeding in helping Sam, getting his trust and preventing him from meeting the demon Ruby," Castiel told him and Harry shot them both a startled look, then looked away, feeling a little uncomfortable with the praise.

"Er... thanks? I guess. Anything else you wished to tell me?"

"There are currently plans being put underway that may soon interfere with any plans you may have made with regards to Sam. He will soon get a disturbing visitor," Castiel told him, and Harry could see that Uriel clearly disagreed with the information being shared at all.

"Oh? What kind of visitor?"

"Dean."

"Dean?! What? He's dead! In Hell! The place of no return! How is he going to return from that? And if he does, what the hell kinda state is he going to be in?"

"He will be perfectly healthy when he returns. We are not allowed to give you all the information, but I thought you should be warned that Sam will soon get his brother back. Dean will not accept you as quickly as Sam has."

"Yeah, don't speak too soon. I used potions on him last night and he wasn't that far out of it that he didn't notice, unfortunately. So, when Dean gets back am I let off the hook? I mean, Sam isn't going to need me anymore is he?" Harry asked, feeling confused at the different, contrasting emotions that realisation brought to him.

"He will still need you. Dean will not know of Sam's possible weakness, and Dean will be given other tasks he will need to do as opposed to looking after Sam."

"Such as what? What is so important that he can't look after his little brother?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at them, before shooting a concerned glance at Sam.

"He will be needed in the upcoming battle. You and Sam may be needed as well, but Dean will be in the forefront of the battle. He should not have to worry about what Sam is doing whilst he is away," Uriel told him and Harry sneered at him.

"You're a dick, you know that? And you know nothing about humans. If Dean is as close to Sam as I'm thinking he was, then no matter what you do or say, he is always going to put Sam first."

"Then we will use Sam to get Dean to do as we wish."

"Over my dead body. Here's the deal. I stay with Sam until I feel it will be detrimental to either my health or the relationship between the brothers. Whilst I am with him, Sam is under my protection. You do anything to use him, or bully him or harm him, then I will find a way to hide from you angels and I will take Sam far away. Maybe Dean too. See how well you do without your weapons. Sound fair?"

"You will not succeed," Uriel told him darkly, narrowing his eyes at Harry and Harry glanced at Castiel, who was looking at him slightly anxiously.

"I can try. You can't use people! Use me all you like I'm used to it, but leave Sam out of it. I'll do anything you ask, but leave Sam alone. He's my responsibility now, alright?" Harry asked, looking at Castiel to be the voice of reasoning. Plus, he kind of got the impression Castiel was higher up than Uriel.

"Then you will accept any task we give you without question? If we leave Sam Winchester alone, you will take up any task that Sam may have been given, even including convincing Dean to do something we wish?" Castiel asked him emotionlessly and Harry sighed, feeling as though he was signing his soul away somehow.

"Yes."

"Why would you do that for someone you barely know?"

"I dunno. Sam's been dealt a shitty life from what little you've told me, but he still seems to have this light in him. Like hope or something. I don't think I've ever had that light and I kinda don't want to see Sam lose his. I'm thinking if he finds out that angels are dicks, then that light will fade dramatically."

"You would trade your freedom for his, just so that he can retain his hope?" Castiel asked him, sounding confused and Harry just shrugged and glanced down at Sam.

"Yeah. I guess I would. I never really had any freedom to start with anyway, did I? I had, maybe, two years of freedom between killing Satch and you two coming to me, but before that, I was never free. What's another master?"

"I cannot be the one you answer to," Castiel admitted to him and Harry shot him a surprised look.

"How come?"

"I was sent to watch over Dean Winchester. Dean will be my charge so I cannot give my attention to anyone else. Especially if that person may come to oppose anything Dean wishes to do."

"Oh. So I'm guessing I won't be seeing much of you anymore?"

"That is right. Another angel will be assigned to you."

"Alright. Oh! Make sure it's not Uriel, yeah?" Harry asked, grinning when Uriel actually shot him an indignant look and Castiel smiled slightly.

"I will see to it," Castiel told him with a slight incline of his head. "I should warn you, however, that you will not be paid any further. You staying to protect Sam was not part of the original deal. I apologise but those I answer to will not accept paying you for something you volunteered for in the first place."

"Don't worry about it, Cas. I never thought I'd get paid anyway and besides, I've got what you've paid me so far which should last, if it doesn't, I'll just hustle where ever we happen to be at the time. Of course this is all assuming Sam will take me with him. But thanks anyway, for the apology and for not sticking me with the dick. Oh, and Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful yeah? I find myself liking you too," Harry admitted with a sheepish shrug.

"I will try. Your new superior will contact you in a few days time," Castiel informed him and then the two angels disappeared from the room. Harry looked at where they had been for a few seconds before turning back to his original task.

He gently moved the covers away from Sam's legs and then glanced up at the still sleeping hunter and carefully began to put his hand into Sam's pocket. He grinned when he felt the room key in there and tried to grab it with two fingers.

"What are you doing?" Harry pulled back as thought burnt and looked at Sam, who was sleepily blinking at him.

"Er... would you believe me if I said copping a feel?"

"Given what little I know about you, then yeah. But I don't think that is what you were doing. I wasn't lying when I said I was broke. And my wallet is in my back pocket."

"I wasn't trying to steal from you! I'm quite well off, you know? Well paid and all that jazz."

"So what were you doing?"

"I was trying to get your room key. I figured you would want something to wear when you woke up and I was trying to be nice. I'm thinking you won't fit into any of my clothes and judging by your dress sense, you wouldn't _want_ to wear my clothes."

"Right..." Sam said dubiously and Harry shot him a hurt look before crossing his arms across his chest defensively.

"You can leave now. You're pretty much healed and you should be fine. Try not to need your arse saving as I might not be inclined to do it the next time," Harry told him shortly, mentally wincing as this was completely going against what he had arranged with the angels. Sam shot him an apologetic look and sighed.

"I'm sorry Harry. I'm just not very trusting I guess."

"'Bout damn time that you stopped trusting a whore. We aren't the most honest of people. Honest people don't survive long in our career. Then again, they don't in yours either."

"Are you not a hunter as well?" Sam asked him, shooting a confused glance at the knife that was on the bedside table, then looking back at Harry.

"Ah, no. Before I became a whore –"

"Stop calling yourself that, it doesn't sound very nice."

"That's what I am, Sam. And besides, it's kind of a term of endearment between prostitutes. It's accepted to be called a whore by yourself or from another whore. I'd probably be insulted however, should you call me one for example. Anyway, before I became a _prostitute_ , I was trained to kill. Sometimes, when I want to vent my frustrations. I take it out on demons and any other oogie boogie that I come across. You know, there's a hell of a lot more in America than in England and they're kinda different too, more bitey and psychotic. Odd, huh?"

"Yeah, I've been told that before. Nobody is sure why though," Sam admitted with a shrug.

"Huh. Guess we Brits are too refined for demons and no offence, but this country probably makes them go mental. Too freaking big. So... still thinking I'm going to try and mug you at any given moment?" Harry asked, moving to sit on the end of the bed and shooting Sam a self-mocking grin.

"I am sorry. I guess I should trust you more, huh? You did save me after all."

"No. Don't give your trust away freely. It's a stupid thing to do. I'm more than willing to earn it, but don't just give it to me. I may not be deserving of it," Harry admitted with a shrug.

"Why would you say that? You haven't tried to harm me yet. I was asleep in your bed and you've had sex with me. I'm thinking both were good opportunities to hurt or even kill me."

"Why would I want to kill you? You haven't done anything that makes me want to. Now, are you feeling well enough to move?" Harry asked, changing the subject due to beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.

"Yeah. I'm actually feeling really good," Sam exclaimed in surprise and then shot Harry a suspicious look. "What did you use?"

"Er... I told you. Healing salves."

"Healing salves don't get rid of bruises in a matter of hours. Nor do they accelerate the healing process of wounds," Sam pointed out and Harry suddenly found the cover he was sitting on very interesting.

"Mine do."

"How?"

"They just do."

"Harry..."

"Fine, I'm somewhat of an apothecary. I make potions that will heal me. Sometimes, with my job and pastime, I find I need them," Harry told him quietly, refusing to look up at Sam, flinching slightly when Sam moved nearer to him.

"You're a witch?"

"What? No! I just gather together certain different ingredients and then mix them together over a specified heat and hope it doesn't explode."

"So you didn't make a deal with a demon?"

"Nope. You do know that there are people out there that are born with the ability to use magic right? No deal needed."

"What? Since when?"

"Er... since forever? I dunno. Merlin did exist though, I know that much."

"What? No way!"

"Yes way."

"Are you one of those people?"

"Not anymore. No."

"Not anymore? Did you lose your magic?"

"You could say that. I turned my back on them so they barred me from their world. Simple as that."

"That sucks. What about your family?"

"I don't have a family. What about yours?"

"I don't have one either."

"Well aren't we a sorry pair? So what are you going to do now?" Harry asked him, tilting his head to the side to look at Sam.

"Dunno. Move somewhere else I guess. Nothing else here for me to stay."

"Thanks," Harry said dryly, before grinning when Sam blushed and ducked his head. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Take me with you."

"What? Why? I mean, why would you want to leave? You've got... clients here, right?"

"I don't take regulars. Gets messy. Besides, don't you want to know why I'm in this motel?"

"I had wondered," Sam admitted, and Harry shifted so that he was sitting Indian style on the bed, facing Sam.

"I crossed my pimp. She may be female, but she has a husband who isn't. I felt it in my best interest to leave my flat. So, will you take me with you? You can drop me off at the next town or state if you want," Harry added, though kind of hoping that Sam refused that.

"I guess having some company would be nice. And you can fight so I won't have to worry about that. Won't you want to go back to your... job?"

"I'm thinking of taking a break for a little while. Unless we need money, then I guess I can do a one off every so often."

"No. I think we can find another way to get money should we need it," Sam said with a shake of his head and Harry shot him an amused look.

"I don't have to come, you know. If I make you uncomfortable."

"You don't! It's not that! I just don't want you to have to sleep with someone for money if you don't want to."

"Aw, that's cute. So when do we leave?" Harry asked to change the subject.

"Today. We can try and find another hunt if you want. I'm not really that bothered," Sam admitted with a shrug and Harry frowned.

"One day soon, I'm going to get you to talk to me. It's not healthy to keep it all inside," Harry told him with a grin, moving to get off the bed and picking up whatever was on the floor and placing them in his bag, before he dragged another bag from under his bed. Sam watched in interest as Harry collected the knife from the bedside table and a gun under his pillow that Sam hadn't noticed, then took them back to the bag.

Sam gaped when Harry opened the bag to show a veritable arsenal of blades of different shapes, sizes and kinds. Harry placed the gun and the knife in the bag and then zipped it shut, before looking at Sam's gaping face and raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"How the hell did you get all that passed customs?"

"I have my ways."

"Who do you talk to?" Sam asked suddenly when Harry was in the process of pulling on his coat.

"What?"

"You said I shouldn't bottle it all up. Who do you talk to about things?" Sam asked him, moving off the bed and pulling on his boots.

"Oh. Um... Technically no one. I don't have anyone. I tried to go to confession once, but when they found out what I was, they pretty much chased me out of the church," Harry told him, refusing to admit that he spoke to God when he was alone.

"You go to confession? You don't strike me as being religious," Sam said, looking so genuinely shocked that Harry wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not.

"There's a look? And I said I went once. Well, once since becoming a prostitute. I used to go quite regularly when I was a kid. Father Gabe was kinda awesome and let me pretty much use him like a diary. But, seeing as you asked, I'm actually Catholic. I know, hilarious, right? The Catholic whore. It's sounds like a really bad Mills and Boons book."

"Huh. I really didn't peg you for being religious at all. Still, that technically means you don't have anyone to talk to the, right? So you should tell me stuff about yourself. Get it off your chest so to speak," Sam pointed out and Harry shot him an incredulous look.

"You're suggesting a quid pro quo?"

"Yeah, why not. You tell me about yourself and I'll tell you about me."

"Sounds fair. I guess. You do realise that most of my life involves sexual situations, right?" Harry asked with a grin at Sam.

"What you've told me so far actually sounds amusing."

"Ah, not all of it was. But quite a bit of it was amusing. And strange. So we trade stories then? Should be interesting. Shall we head up to your room and grab your stuff. I think I left George in your car."

"Er... who's George?

"My sword. I like that sword. It replaced Geoff."

"Geoff? You name your swords?"

"I name all my weapons. Why? Don't you?"

"No, can't say I do. Come on, let's go to my room and grab my stuff," Sam told him, shaking his head in amusement and walking to the door. Harry watched him and then picked up his two bags and followed him out of the room.

* * *

**The Garden**

Joshua kept watch over his younger brothers, Castiel and Uriel for each visit they had with the Faithful Child and with each visit his worry grew as he witnessed Harry's faith starting to fade. However, he had no idea what to do and Gabriel was right in his prediction that they shouldn't tell Michael or Raphael what was going on yet as neither one of them were fully aware of what was going on and had never truly gotten over their father's absense.

Still he had to do something and Castiel's new orders gave him the answer he was desperately looking for. It was finally time to enact another of the plans he had made with Gabriel and to approach one of the trusted angels to 'volunteer' to watch over Harry.

Though given just what they were currently fighting to prevent, it would not be wise to go to one of Lucifer's former students/angels as they'd be under more scrutiny that the rest. So that left Joshua with the remaining July angel. Thankfully he used to help and was mentored by Gabriel.

* * *

**Los Angeles. 11th June, 2008**

"A brother and a sister? Seriously?" Sam asked Harry incredulously as they walked down the back alleys of Los Angeles searching for hints on who was doing the killing of several women in the city.

"Yep. I wasn't going to report them to anyone, I mean, my whole source of income is illegal. Who am I to judge. It was a little weird though..." Harry admitted with a grin when Sam just gaped at him.

"Huh. Didn't you get a little grossed out?"

"Actually no. Surprisingly enough I've been asked to do worse," Harry admitted with a shrug before pausing in thought. "You know, I've just had a thought. These women that have been killed. Erm... were they pregnant? Or had they just given birth, as in, in the last month?" Harry asked suddenly, looking at Sam, who stopped and shuffled through the papers he had on the deceased women.

"Um... I don't know about the first one, but since then, eight were in various stages of pregnancy and two had just given birth. Why?"

"I think I know what's doing it. The women were missing their livers, lungs and hearts right?"

"Yeah. What is it?"

"An Al. Or an Almasti. You ever heard of them before?"

"Nope."

"Well they're nasty little buggers. They appear to look like old women and they prey on pregnant women."

"Why?"

"Myth goes, God created the Al first for Adam, before Eve came along. Adam didn't get on with her and so God created Eve. The Al have since resented Eve and her daughters."

"So how do we kill it?"

"Iron. What else?" Harry asked with a bright smile, getting an amused grin from Sam in return.

"Do you know where to find it then?"

"Where else? A maternity ward."

"Do you have any idea how many hospitals there are in LA? A lot."

"Then we go back to our room and research where all the women lived and which hospital is nearest to them all."

"You're a genius!"

"Well, I'm not just a good lay. Come on. Let's get back to the motel and find out where we need to be. Plus, we need to pick up the right weapons."

"Are any of your weapons made of iron?"

"Of course they are. You think I'm stupid? I have Jeremy and Max, my hook swords that are made of iron. Come on," Harry said, walking back down the alley ahead of Sam towards where they had left the Impala. Sam watched him in amusement and then shook his head before jogging to catch up with Harry.

* * *

**Los Angeles. 12th June, 2008.**

"Harry Potter," Harry spun around and looked at the man standing behind him curiously. He was a bit taller than Harry, at about six foot and had dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. And Harry had no idea who he was.

"Er... Who are you? And what are you doing in my motel room?" Harry asked, wondering when Sam would be coming back with food. He was starving. Killing Als was hard work.

"I am Ardifiel. I have been assigned as your superior," He told him in a soft voice and Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

"Castiel sent you to me then?"

"Yes. I volunteered for the job. You will need to call for me should you need me now, and I will be the one to bring you your tasks."

"Huh. I hope you're nicer than Uriel." Harry grumbled and the angel in front of him, Ardifiel shot him an amused look.

"I would like to think I am."

"What is the world coming to? An angel with a sense of humour. So did you just come here to tell me about yourself, or did you need something else?"

"I just came to inform you of who you need to listen to from now on. Castiel and Uriel will no longer be able to come to you."

"Well, I guess with all bad news, comes some good news right? Well, nice to meet you Ardifiel, but Sam will be getting back soon, so you had better leave. I'm thinking it may put a crimper on our budding friendship if he finds out I was hired to befriend him."

"I understand. Call for me should you need me. I will come to you when I get a new task for you."

"When do you think that will be?"

"I do not know. I'd imagine it would be after Dean has gotten out of Hell though."

"When will that be?"

"I do not know. It is not for me to know that."

"Fair enough. Sorry for being saddled with me and all."

"You forget that I chose to help you."

"Right, well thank you then." Harry said, and rolled his eyes when the angel disappeared from the room. "Damned angels. Haven't they ever heard of saying good bye at all? You know, you really dropped the ball on teaching your first kids some bloody manners."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Another chapter redone! There's been a few additions and changes here but not really any major ones. The main one would probably be that Joshua makes another appearance and implies he was the one to push Ardifiel into volunteering to watch over Harry. Also, Harry tells Sam that he used to go to confession regularly as a child and saw 'Father Gabe' as a confidente.
> 
> Oh! And Harry is no longer being paid by Heaven for all the time he spends with Sam. He was no longer paid once they changed the deal due to Harry technically volunteering for the roll.
> 
> Oh yeah, the swords are named after Jeremy and Max Irons because Harry has the imagination of a gnat (or I do…). Max Irons is Jeremy Irons son, if you were wondering… (he is an actor too though! I didn't just stalk Jeremy Irons online to find a good name for Harry's other hook sword.
> 
> Word of the Chapter: Proditomania - the feeling that everyone around you is a traitor. Which is kinda what Dean starts feeling towards the end of this season. I mean, he's not completely wrong but still...
> 
> So again, onwards to the next chapter, huh?


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

**Interstate 5. 27th June, 2008**

"Who's Dean?" Harry asked out loud, shocking Sam into jerking in his seat and swerving the car slightly before he regained control and took a deep breath before looking over at Harry from the corner of his eye.

"Why do you ask?" Sam asked him warily.

"You called out his name in your sleep last night. You've done it quite often, but I've never thought to ask until now," Harry told him with a shrug, looking at Sam through his lashes and wondering if Sam would tell him about Dean.

"He's my brother," Sam told him quietly and Harry turned in his seat to face Sam fully.

"Oh. Where is he now?" Harry asked him, feeling slightly bad that he already knew all this.

"He's dead."

"Ah. Um... may I ask how he died?"

"He was an idiot," Sam told him in a voice that warned Harry to stop with the way the conversation was going.

"Oh. Want me to tell you about Hermione?" Harry asked randomly, making Sam look over at him in confusion.

"Who?"

"You told me about Dean, so I'll tell you about Hermione. Hermione was a friend I made when I was eleven and I went to boarding school. She stayed my friend even when I was pulled out of Hogwarts, the school, in order to be trained."

"How did she die?"

"Oh, as far as I know she's still alive."

"Then how does this story compare to my story about Dean?" Sam asked him curiously, though there wasn't any anger or spite in his voice, which made Harry breath a small sigh of relief before launching into his story.

"You'll see. Hermione tried to convince me to not turn my back on my world. I refused but I promised I would stay in touch with her. No one else from that world wanted to stay in touch with me, but she did. Until she found out what I did for a living."

"What did she do?"

"She refused to speak to me. Called me a slut and a whore and that I was disgusting. Told me that my parents would have been ashamed of me and that I was going to Hell. Then she cut off all contact with me. I'd never regretted my career choice until that moment. She made me wonder if my parents were ashamed of me."

"She sounds like a bitch."

"She wasn't. She just had very strong morals and paying for sex went against those morals. She didn't like the fact that I enjoyed letting people pay me to have sex with them. Plus, as far as I know, she never actually had sex until she married her husband," Harry added, wrinkling his nose to show how he felt about that decision in her life.

"What?!"

"Yep. She didn't believe in sex before marriage, so what I was doing, she disapproved of. Of course, there was also the fact that it was mostly with men and about sixty percent of those men were married."

"But you were her friend, why would she drop you just for a difference in lifestyle choice?"

"Not a clue. After her, I never really made any other friends. That was about two years ago."

"So you haven't had any proper friends for two years?"

"Nope. Like you can talk. You're telling me that you have millions of friends out there that you talk to on a regular basis and know what you do?" Harry told him with a grin, which Sam returned.

"No. You're right," Sam admitted and Harry grinned at him and shuffled in his seat slightly to look at Sam.

"Which just makes us both Billy No Mates. Meh, I'd consider you my friend now. So... you'd be my first real friend since Hermione."

"What kind of name is Hermione anyway?" Sam asked suddenly and Harry burst out laughing.

"I think her parents were fans of Shakespeare. It is a weird name though, right? Ah well. I'd rather not talk about her anymore."

"That's understandable."

"So where are we going again?"

"Aberdeen?"

"Then we're going in the wrong direction and we're in the wrong country entirely. When we get there though, I've been told where there is a great fish and chip shop. Oh, I really fancy a fish supper with mushy peas. Man, I miss mushy peas," Harry said wistfully, grinning at Sam, who just shook his head in amusement.

"Not Aberdeen, Scotland. Aberdeen, Washington," Sam told him in amusement and Harry grinned at him sheepishly.

"Ah, that makes more sense. So... why?"

"Wendigo."

"A what?"

"Wendigo. It's a cannibalistic creature that hunts for humans in the wild-."

"Humans in the Wild? Sounds like a David Attenborough documentary. A weird one at that," Harry interrupted and then grinned ruefully when Sam shot him an unimpressed look.

"Can I finish?"

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"Right. Well, they trap humans, that are out in the wilderness," Sam shot Harry a withering stare when Harry snickered. "They then eat them and go into hibernation for about twenty or so years."

"Huh. Sound pleasant. How do we kill them?"

"Fire. We have to set them on fire," Sam said, before feeling somewhat nervous at the look of unadulterated glee on Harry's face.

"Fire? Ooh, I like fire! I _love_ fire! I can work with fire," Harry said with a wide grin, practically bouncing in his seat.

"You're kind of creepy like this."

"Sorry. Besides, this will be a good way for me to let off some steam. I've been feeling a little... tense lately," Harry admitted, once more shifting in his seat, though this time for a completely different reason. It had been the longest he had ever gone without sex of some sort.

"Tense? How come?" Sam asked, completely clueless and reminding Harry of just how innocent Sam could be about certain things, and made him feel a little more uncomfortable about some of the thoughts he had been entertaining recently. Celibacy really wasn't for him, even if he was technically working for God.

"No reason. So how long until we get there?"

"About an hour."

"Greeeeat. I hate America," Harry grumbled, slumping down in his seat and sulking, moving to put his feet on the dashboard. Sam shot him a wry grin and shook his head.

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

**Aberdeen, WA. 30th June, 2008.**

"Oh God. Oh God. I need a shower. Dibs on the shower," Harry grumbled, ignoring the amused grin on Sam's face as they walked into their motel room.

"I need a shower too. Don't use all the hot water."

"You weren't the one the burning carcass fell on. Eugh. I may never be clean again. I've been groped by a lot of people, but not by a burning cannibal," Harry said with an exaggerated shudder, making Sam burst into laughter. "Not funny!"

"Sorry. It is a little though. Come on, you've got to admit that!"

"No. Not at all. I need a stiff drink," Harry called out from the bathroom, not hearing Sam chuckle as he fell back to lie on his bed in the room.

"We can head out to the bar not far from here," Sam called out, moving to lean over the bed and pull his bag to him, and pulling out clean clothes.

"Sounds like a plan. Showers free. I forgot my clothes. Sorry," Sam looked up and coughed before looking away quickly much to Harry's amusement. Harry walked over to his bed and grabbed his bag to get clean clothes out, only wearing a towel.

"Ah relax Sammy-Sam. It's not like you've never seen me naked before, right?" Harry asked, throwing a mischievous grin over his shoulder at a blushing Sam.

"I'm going to shower," Sam said, closing the door on Harry's loud laughter.

"Aw! Are you shy?"

"Shut up Harry!" Sam yelled and Harry grabbed some clean clothes, laughing as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He considered wearing something a little tighter than he normally wore, but he wasn't entirely sure what Sam would think of that, and he had found himself increasingly worrying about what Sam would think of him, which was annoying. So he chose jeans that were still loose, but were tighter than what he normally wore.

Sam had walked out of the bathroom by the time he had finally decided on what to wear, and Harry grinned when he noticed that Sam was fully clothed in his many layers once again.

"We are going to have to do something about all those layers you know. Makes it hard to get to that delectable body of yours. Think about all those beautiful women you are depriving of your body," Harry said with mock sadness, dodging a swat that Sam aimed at him. "Ah come on. I'll just have to deal with what you are wearing for the time being. When we hit a bigger city, I'll take you shopping."

"What? No! What's wrong with my clothes?" Sam exclaimed, tugging at the shirt he was wearing in confusion and Harry looked him up and down and then nibbled on his lip and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"They're a bit... I dunno... stuffy. Chill, I won't completely change you, I just think you need new clothes."

"We don't have any money," Sam pointed out in hopes of deterring Harry's idea of a whole new wardrobe for Sam.

"When did you get that idea. I have loads of money! I told you, I used to get paid a lot. I saved most of it. So we're going shopping and we're going to blow some money. And have no fear, I won't dress you up like a prostitute. Even though we do wear normal clothing as well. And suits. Sometimes we need to wear suits."

"When would you need to wear a suit?" Sam asked him curiously as they both grabbed their wallets and left the motel room.

"When I was taken to the opera, or theatre. Those kind of places. Balls, business meals, those kind of things."

"People took you on _dates_?"

"Sure, I escorted them to those places. To be fair, I've seen every opera going, but I've never seen a full one."

"How come?"

"When they're paying, people find that they don't want to see the second half, if you get my meaning."

"Ah, so you can talk about opera then?"

"No. You don't actually think I watch the opera do you? I have other things I need to be doing. And no, I'm not going to tell you what. If you can't guess, then you'll never know." Harry added, grinning when Sam shook his head.

"Your life is way more interesting than mine."

"I don't think so. You were brought up killing monsters."

"What was your childhood like?"

"It was a life. Let's leave it at that. So, this the bar?" Harry asked as they approached the bar about ten minutes walk away from their motel.

"Seem so. What do you drink? You do have ID right? Because you're gonna be asked for it," Sam pointed out with a grin and Harry glared at him.

"I have a fake and a real ID. Maybe I should use the fake one."

"Why?"

"Because with the fake one, I'm legally in this country, with my real one, I'm not."

"Wait, you don't have a visa to live here?"

"Oh yes, and what was I going to say was my reason for living in America? Please let me past your borders so that I can solicit your citizens and charge them for, if I do say so myself, amazing sex?"

"Good point. Use the fake one," Sam told him, then led him into the bar and straight over to get their drinks. "Beer?"

"Beer is fine," Harry agreed, and Sam waved down the barman, placing his order and waiting for the man to give them their beers. To both their surprise, Harry wasn't asked for ID. Harry grabbed his beer and then walked away from the bar, leading Sam to a booth and sliding in to sit down. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You're kinda quiet," Harry told him with a shrug and Sam sighed but looked down at his beer.

"I'm fine. Really. So where do we go next? Find a hunt or just go somewhere for the hell of it?"

"Up to you, you're the one driving after all. Especially as my lessons are going kinda slowly," Harry admitted with a sheepish grin and Sam snorted in amusement, covering his smile by bringing his beer to his lips.

"You do realise right, that Dean viewed that car as his baby. I think he would have a conniption fit if he knew what we were doing to it."

"Doing to it? You make it sound nefarious," Harry said with a grin, whilst inside worrying over what Dean would say when he got back. _If_ he got back, seeing as his angel didn't even seem to know how Dean would be getting out of Hell.

"Well to Dean, teaching someone to drive in his Impala _is_ nefarious."

"So why are we doing it?"

"Because you need to learn how to drive and... Dean's not here anymore," Sam added in a quiet voice, before downing the rest of his beer. Harry hailed over a passing waitress and asked for two more beers a several different shots, then looked over at Sam.

"So, I say we get rip-roaringly drunk and forget about all the shit in our past. Sound like a good plan or not?"

"Sounds like an excellent plan," Sam said with a grin and then grabbed one of the shots that the waitress had brought to them and downed it before Harry handed him another one. Harry grinned and downed his own in quick succession.

Harry regretted taking Sam to the bar. Sam was a light-weight. No polite or gentle way to put it. Harry was stumbling as he practically dragged a giggling Sam into their motel room and then placed him on his bed.

"You should really get to sleep Sam," Harry told him pulling Sam's shoes and then his jeans off and placing them onto the floor next to his bed. He considered pulling the covers down but then decided against it as that would mean moving Sam, which at the moment wasn't looking like the best of plans he had ever had.

"I don't wanna sleep."

"Oh great, an obstinate drunk. Brilliant," Harry muttered, looking at Sam warily and then sighing. "You're gonna vomit in the night and choke to death, aren't you? Just to spite me." Harry moved away from the bed, only to jerk to a stop when Sam latched onto his wrist. "Sam..."

"Dean's in Hell."

"Oh jeeze," Harry groaned almost silently before he moved back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. "Sam, you're drunk. You need to go to sleep," Harry muttered, releasing his wrist from Sam's grasp.

"No! No, it's my fault. I died," Sam whispered, moving to lean his head against Harry's leg.

"Please give me patience," Harry muttered, looking up at the ceiling and speaking to God for the first time since he had started to travel with Sam. "Sam, it wasn't your fault. You're not really thinking about what you're saying right now."

"No, I died. Jake stabbed me and I died. But Dean... Dean sold his soul for me. Dean is in Hell because of me. I should have killed Jake when I had the chance then I wouldn't have died and Dean would still be here," Sam told him earnestly and Harry looked at him sympathetically.

"You can't blame yourself for that, Sam. Killing a person... it's harder than it sounds. You don't strike me as a killer, Sammy-Sam, and well... we wouldn't have met if all that hadn't happened."

"I miss Dean," Sam admitted quietly and Harry winced, not saying anything as he wasn't sure if he was allowed, nor if Dean actually _was_ getting out of Hell.

"What do you miss about him?" Harry asked, deciding that perhaps it would be good for Sam to talk about his deceased brother, though to be fair, he has never actually had to comfort a drunken, grieving man who's brother went to Hell to save him.

"His crappy taste in music," Sam grumbled and Harry laughed quietly. "His taste in music sucked. He still had cassettes! _Now_! In this day and age. I don't think he even knew what an mp3 is," Sam bemoaned and Harry snorted in amusement.

"Anything else?"

"He was obsessed with pie. And women! I think he's even slept with more women that _you_! And he doesn't even get paid for it!"

"Er..." Harry was at a complete loss at how to respond to that. Was he meant to be insulted or not? He chose to go with not, if only for the pure reason that Sam had no idea what he was saying.

"And did I mention the pie? All the time! How he wasn't over weight I'll never know!"

"What kind of pie?" Harry asked curiously, though not daring to mention that he now had a craving for cherry pie.

"Any. I don't actually think he tasted it with the way he inhaled it. And then there's Bobby."

"Who's Bobby?" Harry asked, genuinely confused for once. Neither Sam nor the angels had mentioned a Bobby.

"He's... I dunno. He watches over us like we're his kids... I guess he's like a father figure," Sam slurred and Harry frowned.

"Why aren't you with him then? Why are you alone after Dean's death?"

"I ran away. Bobby tried to call me everyday for a month after Dean's death. But I got a new phone eventually. I suck."

"You're grieving Sam. I think Bobby would understand. Wanna try and contact him?"

"No! No, he'll just want to talk about Dean and I don't want to talk about him," Sam grumbled, and Harry didn't have the heart to point out that they had just talked about the man for a good half an hour.

"Alright, so we won't call Bobby. Come on, try and get some sleep, Sam. You're going to have one heck of a hangover in the morning," Harry pointed out amusedly, before looking at Sam in shock when Sam pulled him down to lie on the bed next to him. "Sam?"

"Shh," Sam hushed him, before moving on top of Harry, who rolled his eyes and wondered what to do in this situation.

"Sam. You're very drunk right now. If you want to sleep with me when you're sober, then I will willingly have sex with you. But not when you're drunk," Harry told him, mentally groaning when Sam shot him a wounded look. Harry cursed God and Ardifiel in his mind and then leant up and kissed Sam softly before pulling back. "Ask me in the morning, Sam, if you still want to, okay?" Sam nodded sleepily and then pretty much collapsed on top of Harry and fell asleep. "Fuck. The fucking situations you put me, I swear."

An hour later Harry was dragged out of a light doze by the sound a throat being cleared. Sitting up quickly in bed, hand on the knife that Sam always kept under his pillow - and Harry really didn't think that was the healthiest way to not get stabbed in your sleep, though he was starting to see the benefit of it - and looking in the direction the noise came from.

Though in hindsight, Harry did concede that clearing their throat would probably be the last thing a would be killer would do. Harry's assassin brain just called him a moron.

"Ardifiel?" Harry asked, looking at the angel who was the one to wake him up and putting the knife back under the pillow whilst getting off the bed, careful not to wake Sam up. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought we should at least get to know one another somewhat if we are going to work together," Ardifiel told him quietly, moving to sit at the table in the room. Harry stared at him and then moved to sit at the table with him with a shake of his head.

"And you thought four in the morning was the best time for a get to know you chat?" Harry asked in amusement, wondering just how socially retarded angels really were.

"It has so far been the only time I have been able to find that Sam would not be suspicious. Currently I doubt even my father Himself would be able to wake up Sam," Ardifiel told him bluntly, getting a snicker from Harry and giving a small smile himself.

"True. So what did you want to talk about?"

"I know much about yourself, and I am intrigued by your lifestyle. However, I thought I would answer some of your questions if you have any. I find myself wanting to form a friendship with you. You fascinate me more than any other of my father's creation do," Ardifiel told him bluntly, making Harry curse his pale skin because he's pretty sure he just lit up like a beacon. And it took a lot these days to make Harry blush.

"Um… thanks? I don't actually now how to respond to that. Um… questions. Right. Er…" Harry mentally flailed a little as every question he has ever thought to ask an angel suddenly abandoned him faster than Hermione had.

"I only speak the truth. So is there anything you wish for me to tell you?"

"Um… you want a friendship with me, right? So… tell me about yourself. What do you do in Heaven? Are there are angels that you're closer too? Ooh! Any Heavenly gossip?" Harry asked with a grin, feeling more comfortable when it didn't look like Ardifiel would smite him at the wrong question.

"About myself? Well, I am one of thirteen angels that do not have a garrison and only answer to God. Though all thirteen of us had an archangel mentor and we tend to listen to whichever one mentored us should they ask us to do something. Most times they won't though. My mentor was Gabriel. I am also the angel of strength, challenges and morale, and I reside of the month of July and those born within it. It is part of the reason I asked to be your mentor and guardian."

"Huh. So what's Gabriel like? I mean, for one, are they male or female? And are you close to the other garrison-less angels?"

"Gabriel was… unlike any of the other angels. He was our father's messenger and was given more leeway. He gave messages both good and bad and I believe our father took that into account and would allow Gabriel to express himself more. He was my favourite brother, not just because he was my mentor. He would tell us stories and watch over all the fledglings. He taught us all how to fly and would let us help him come up with different creatures for our father to create. He brought joy and laughter to Heaven."

"You… you talk about him in the past tense. Is… is he dead?" Harry asked, kind of dreading the answer because he would proudly admit that Gabriel was his favourite angel as a child. The one he would pray to when he wasn't talking to God. And maybe, because the one person in his childhood who listened to him and _cared_ shared the angel's name.

"No, he's not dead. He just… he left. You must understand, when Lucifer fell it left Heaven reeling. Those of my kin that he mentored were treated with suspicion if they hadn't fallen with him and the archangels all seemed to lose something in themselves. They were the first. They had a connection that I do not believe any of the rest of us angels ever understood or ever will. And Gabriel took it hardest. Lucifer doted on Gabriel. Everyone did, to be honest, but Lucifer taught Gabriel everything he knew. And Gabriel loved Lucifer possibly that little but more than he did the rest of us. So when Lucifer turned on Heaven and fell, Gabriel didn't come back from that. One day he disappeared. Most of Heaven believe he died from injuries he gained in the war but there are some of us, those he mentored personally, that do not believe that. We would have felt it," Ardifiel told him, looking so sad and lost in his memories that Harry felt the urge to hug the angel. He didn't though, for all he knew that was a sure fire way to get smote.

"Wow. I have no idea what to say now. I kinda wish I could meet him. What about the other Archangels, Michael and Raphael? What do they think?"

"Who knows? Personally I think they either know Gabriel is still alive or they at least suspect it."

"What are they like?"

"Different. Especially now. I was never close to them though. Gabriel and Lucifer were the two archangels I ever had anything to do with."

"Ah, so who else are you close to? And being without a garrison and only having to answer to God, does that make you higher up than Cas?" Harry asked, having been wondering just what the hierarchy was between the two angels for a while.

"In answer to your second question, yes, I am higher up than Castiel. He heads a part of a garrison that is led by Michael. Should I tell him to do something, then as long as it does not interfere with anything Michael has told him to do, he has to listen," Ardifiel told him, shifting slightly in his seat and both freezing slightly when Sam snorted behind them. When he settled back into sleep, the two relaxed again.

"Huh. So, my first question? Who are you close to? Do angels have best friends?"

"We have siblings that we are closer to, as I imagine most humans do. I am closer to the other independents than the other seraphs. Within the group though, I am closest to Yebemiah and Demebiah as we work together more often than not. I am also close to Dardiel and Arragon as well for the same reasons."

"You know, the way you talk about your siblings makes you more approachable. More human, I guess. Castiel hasn't really learnt how to act human and doesn't hide that we confuse him. But you, you seem to find it easier," Harry pointed out, glancing at the angel who was now casually lounging on the chair, making the world's most uncomfortable chairs actually look comfy.

"Castiel hasn't had need to interact with humans all that much in the past. I am an angel of morale however, for every war you humans have had, I have been watching over and giving hope to the faithful. I am glad to have made you more accepting of angels though. I feared Uriel would have turned you against us. I feared that what we are asking you to do would have turned you against us."

"I'm… I'm not all that happy with it but I did sign up for this, I guess. Sometimes I find it hard to keep my faith but at the same time I'm not one of those fair weather believers who only read the New Testament and believe God is merciful and peaceful. I'm aware He gave us free will to do with as we please. I know he's far from merciful and can be downright wrathful. Still, sometimes it's hard to keep that in mind when I feel like I'm being used."

"My father can sometimes ask too much of humanity. I am aware of this. But He sent us as a sign to let you know that you're not alone. You don't have to shoulder this alone. He listens to you, Harry, and He cares. You only need ask and if He can, He will answer."

* * *

**Aberdeen, WA. 1st July, 2008**

Harry woke up later that morning, having fallen asleep almost as soon as Ardifiel had left when Sam jumped off of him and ran into the bathroom. Harry watched him dazedly, not entirely sure what had happened, then the sound of Sam being sick in the toilet brought the events of the night before back to his mind.

"Please let him have forgotten," Harry whispered to the ceiling, before getting out of the bed and walking over to the bathroom. "Sam? You okay?"

"No," Sam groaned, and Harry felt his lips twitch into a smile and was thankful Sam was far too preoccupied with praying to the porcelain god to see Harry take amusement in his predicament.

"Ah, do you want some water?" Harry asked, wondering what else he could do to make Sam feel a little better, though he did bring it on himself.

"Please," Sam asked, voice hoarse and making Harry try not to grin once more. He then walked away from the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of water he had left on the side of is own bed and walked back to the bathroom.

"Here you go. So... do you actually remember anything from last night?" Harry asked tentatively as he handed Sam the bottle of water.

"All I can taste is vodka."

"Probably a good thing then," Harry admitted with a shrug and Sam shifted to look at Harry, who was still standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh? What for?"

"I hit on you."

"You just said you didn't remember anything from last night," Harry told him, looking at him, startled.

"I remember that. You could have slept with me and I wouldn't have cared, but you told me not to. Thanks."

"I may not have many morals, Sam, but I generally don't tend to take advantage of my friends. And that's what I'm beginning to see you as. So, I didn't want to ruin that by sleeping with you when you weren't completely aware of your actions."

"Well thank you anyway," Sam told him with a small smile, before he unsteadily stood up and went to the sink to rinse out his mouth. Harry walked out of the bathroom and to Sam's bag, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. He then walked back to the bathroom and handed them to Sam. "Thanks."

"No probs. I'm going to get changed. You alright now?"

"Yeah. And thank you for letting me talk about Dean. It helped, it really did," Sam told him and Harry grinned at him before rolling his eyes.

"You remembered everything from last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Seriously, that's great," Harry muttered and walked out of the bathroom, hearing Sam chuckle to himself. "You suck." Harry added with a quick glance at the ceiling before turning his attention to his bag.

Harry had gotten changed into some more clothes that were actually quite tight fitting as he really needed to do some laundry and then turned around when Sam exited the bathroom, looking a little fresher, though still a little peaky.

"We heading out today or are we staying here for a little while?" Harry asked him, shoving his dirty clothes back into his duffle bag, then looking back at Sam, who was watching him silently. "Sam?"

"Harry... does your offer still stand?" Sam asked him quietly and Harry shot him a confused look.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked him, watching Sam warily as he walked closer until he standing directly in front of Harry.

"You told me to wait and ask you in the morning if I was sure I wanted to sleep with you. Harry, I'm telling you that I'm sure."

"Sam... I don't think you know what you're asking."

"I'll pay you."

"Sam! That's not what I meant," Harry told him, feeling a little hurt that that was what Sam had assumed he meant. "Sam, you don't really want to sleep with me. You're confused. Get to know me first, yeah? I mean me, not Bambi or Angel."

"But... You said you wanted to sleep with me."

"I do, but you don't want to sleep with me, Harry. You want to sleep with Angel. I don't want that. Not with you." Harry admitted with a shrug, looking up at Sam and smiling softly at him.

"So... if I get to know you, then you might want to..."

"Want to what?" Harry asked him curiously, his curiosity growing when Sam blushed and looked away from him.

"Never mind. So where do you want to go next?" Sam asked, moving away from a highly confused and slightly curious Harry to go to his bag and dig out some fresh clothes.

"A laundrette? I need to wash some clothes or I'll soon be wearing my work clothes and I'm thinking that might not be appreciated by everyone," Harry said with a wry grin and Sam smiled back at him.

"We'll go find a place then. Where do you want to go after that?"

"I have no idea. Either find an interesting hunt or surprise me."

"We could see if there are any signs of any demons and go hunt them," Sam suggested lightly, pulling off his shirt and t-shirt and thus not seeing Harry's startled look.

"Why would we want to do that? I mean, we can't kill them, can we? So... there really isn't much point," Harry said in what he hoped was a calm voice.

"I just wondered. We don't have to if you don't want to. I'll find another hunt then," Sam told him, and Harry took a soothing and relaxing breath and then began to sort through his clothes that needed to be washed.

**Green Wood, MS. 7th July, 2008**

"Lloyd's Bar? Why are we here? It's the middle of nowhere," Harry pointed out as he followed Sam into a bar, spotting the yarrow flowers on the edges of road and throwing Sam's back a suspicious glance.

"I just need to check something out," Sam told him absently and Harry narrowed his eyes even more, entering the bar behind Sam and watching as Sam made his way straight to the barman.

"You cannot let him do what he is about to do," Harry jumped and noticed that Ardifiel was standing next to him.

"What _is_ he about to do?" Harry asked, watching Sam as he said something to the barman and then began to walk back to Harry, who shot him a smile and then glanced to the side at Ardifiel. "Sorry, I don't do that anymore. I can give you the number of someone that does."

"Harry?"

"Hey, Sam. You okay?" Harry asked, shooting Ardifiel an apologetic glance and then turned back to Sam.

"Yeah, I'm just going to check on something outside, stay in here, alright?" Sam asked him and Harry shot him another suspicious glance but nodded slowly. "Thanks, be back in a second."

"What did you mean?" Harry asked once Sam had left the bar once more and Ardifiel looked past him and then pulled Harry into a corner of the bar.

"You saw the flowers outside and know what their less conventional uses are for. What do you think he is about to do?"

"No. Not Sam. He wouldn't do something that stupid. Would he?" Harry asked, looking up at Ardifiel as though begging him to agree that Sam wouldn't be that stupid.

"He is desperate for his brother to come back. Remember what he told you that night. He blames it on himself. He wishes to right that wrong."

"Shit. What the hell am I doing talking to you then? Thank you for the heads up Ardy and sorry for implying you were trying to buy my services," Harry told him, yanking the door to the bar open and throwing a wave back at the angel, even though he was probably gone already anyway. "Sam!"

Harry ran over to the centre of the crossroads, cursing himself for not noticing it in the first place and then noticed Sam by the Impala with a shovel and small box in one hand.

"Sam! Stop!" Harry yelled, running over to Sam and skidding to a stop in front of him, yanking the shovel out of his hands.

"Harry? What the hell?"

"Don't do it. Are you stupid?" Harry asked him angrily and Sam sighed before shaking his head.

"I have to Harry. I have to see if I can get Dean out. I have to see if I can save him," Sam told him almost desperately as he reached forward to try and take the shovel back from Harry, who took a step away and held the shovel behind him.

"Oh? Brilliant idea. And what would Dean think? Hmm? He gets out of Hell only to find that it is because of his idiotic little brother who gave up the sacrifice his older brother had made for him. Genius idea. Really."

"You don't understand – "

"I don't?! You don't think I haven't lost people? My parents were killed when I was a baby and then my godfather when I was fifteen, in front of my eyes might I add. I've lost all that but I never considered selling my soul just to get them back! They wouldn't want that!"

"Dean might!"

"Really? You think he would want to trade places with you in Hell?"

"Well..."

"He wouldn't. I don't know Dean and even I know that! Sam... please, don't do it. If not for me, then for Dean. Don't waste his gift to you."

"Some gift."

"He gave you back your life, so live it! Stop moping around and live your life the way he would have wanted you to!" Harry yelled at Sam, stepping closer so that he was toe to toe with Sam and looked up at him.

"So I just forge credit cards and sleep with every pretty woman I can con into my bed?" Sam asked him dryly, wiping away the tears that had threatened to spill and Harry looked up at him and grinned.

"That's what Dean would have wanted? Huh, guess he would've been impressed that you had ordered a prostitute then."

"No, he would have been horrified that I had considered paying for sex."

"Oh, he's one of those people. I hate those people. How am I supposed to make a living if people like Dean are going around convincing people that its better to sleep with someone for free."

"Er... isn't it?"

"No! Do you know how much better in bed prostitutes are to anyone else? We sleep with people for a living! It's our job to pleasure people. If you want a good lay, pay for it. Or date a prostitute," Harry added, happy to note that Sam seemed to have forgotten about summoning a crossroads demon.

"Prostitutes date?"

"Some do."

"Do you?"

"Er... I've never been in a relationship before, no. But I guess if I ever met someone I liked enough, then sure. As long as they understood and accepted what I do," Harry told him with a shrug, looking up at Sam when he placed his hands on Harry's shoulders.

" _I_ accept and understand what it is you do."

"Yes..." Harry admitted slowly, not entirely sure as to what Sam was getting at.

"Would you consider having a relationship with me?"

" _You_ want a relationship with _me_? Why? I mean, why would you want a relationship with someone you've only known a month?"

"I don't know. I just... I really, really like you. I don't care how we met and I don't care that you _like_ your other job. And you just stopped me from summoning a demon to save my brother's life even though you knew it might have meant I would have hated you for it. I just... you've done more for me in this past month that most people have all my life," Sam finished and Harry looked at him in surprise, tilting his head to the side.

"I... yeah."

"Yeah? Yeah what?" Sam asked him in amusement.

"Yeah, I would consider being in a relationship with you."

"Good. Does that mean I can sleep with you now?" Sam asked him with a wicked smirk and Harry bopped him on the back of the head.

"You think I'm easy?"

"Well..."

"Careful how you answer that."

"Then no! Not at all! Why ever would I think that?!"

"Hmm. Can we please go somewhere else? And... please don't do this again. I find that I don't want to lose another friend. Especially not you," Harry admitted quietly and Sam finally wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him against him.

"I promise," Sam whispered and rested his head on Harry's.

* * *

**Topeka. 12th August, 2008**

"So, what are we doing here?" Sam asked, following Harry as he made his way determinedly through the streets, clearly searching for somewhere.

"I need more ingredients for my potions. I was told of a place here that sold what I would need," Harry told him in an absent voice as he looked for the right shop he had been told about.

"By who? I mean, you said you weren't in contact with anyone," Sam pointed out and Harry threw him a startled look.

"There is one person I stay in touch with. He got me the ID and so on. Anyway, Ardifiel told me of this place when I asked him if he knew of anywhere. And we were already nearby because of that freaky-ass spirit," Harry told him, casually mentioned the angel's name and hoping that Sam didn't pick up on it.

"Ardifiel? Weird name," Sam commented and Harry rolled his eyes and silently wondered why there wasn't an angel called Paul or something.

"Yeah. Somehow it suits him though. Ah hah! Found it," Harry exclaimed suddenly and Sam looked over at where Harry was heading.

"'Strings and Things'? And this place sells potion stuff?" Sam asked him dubiously looking at the shop and then at Harry.

"Well if they called it 'Potion Ingredients' then not only is it a completely unoriginal name, but every wannabe potion maker would mob the place as well, and I wasn't joking when I said they explode. Potions are dangerous. I only make the ones I know by heart. I'm not an idiot to experiment with things I don't completely understand. So, are you coming in or not?"

"You think I wouldn't? I wanna see what goes into those potions," Sam told him and Harry shot him a wary smile.

"You really don't. But never mind, come on. You can help me search out the ingredients," Harry told him cheerfully as he pushed the door open and walked inside, Sam following behind him.

They entered a rather dingy shop and Harry smiled brightly at the greying man behind the counter.

"Hello sirs, how can I help you?"

"Hey, I need some ingredients to top up supplies. I need some more arrowroot, yarrow flowers (petals and stems), aconite, belladonna, daisy roots, crow spleens, um... about half a pound of frog intestines, green caterpillars, bluebottle larvae, and erm... oh, crushed unicorn horn," Harry listed off as he read a piece of paper in his hands.

" _Unicorn_? There's no such thing!" Sam exclaimed and the man behind the counter gave him a strange look before shrugging and turning back to face Harry who had barely glanced at Sam.

"I will need to go into the back for the unicorn horn, belladonna and the aconite, but the rest can be found over on that wall behind you," He told Harry, shooting one last look at Sam before disappearing behind the curtain into the back of the shop.

"Unicorns? Really?" Sam hissed at Harry as they walked towards the wall filled with hundred of different ingredients

"Yep. Just ponced up white horses with a horn attached to their forehead. Nothing special. They annoyed me if I'm honest. Now, um, you're nice and tall, can you reach the arrowroot, the bluebottle larvae and the daisy roots," Harry asked, already looking for the other ingredients that he needed. Sam watched Harry in amusement and then began to pull down the items Harry had asked him to get.

"So what are all these things for?" Sam asked him as they placed there items on the counter and waited for the man to come back with the rest of the items that Harry needed.

"Erm... more bruise paste, pepper-up, a slave that speeds the healing of cuts and um..." Harry mumbled something under his breath and Sam shot him an amused look.

"What was that?"

"Poisons. A couple of poisons that may be useful to us and the one I normally cover my blades with," Harry told him defensively and Sam just sighed and shook his head.

"Whatever I say to you, you'll ignore me anyway, won't you?"

"Pretty much. Want to soak your weapons in the poison as well? It's the only one I found that had an abundance of salt in the mix, so it stings the demons like a bitch," Harry told him with a wicked grin, Sam shot him an amused grin then looked over when the owner reappeared behind the duck with the items he had gone to fetch.

"Here are the items you asked for, sirs. Will you pay Galleons or dollars?"

"Dollars. Can I pay with my card?" Harry asked and the man nodded. Harry pulled his wallet out and his card.

"That will be one hundred and forty-nine, sixty-one then please." The man asked and Harry handed the card over without blinking at the card, whilst Sam gaped in shock. "I'll just bag these up for you then sirs."

After they had paid and left the shop to walk back to the Impala, Sam looked over at Harry, making Harry glance at him curiously out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes?"

"A hundred and fifty dollars? Are you insane?" Sam cried out, clearly looking at Harry as though he believe he was in fact completely insane.

"No, that was actually quite a good price. Must thank Ardy for pointing me to there. Anyway, it was the unicorn horn, belladonna and aconite that made it that expensive. The rest would have come to about thirty dollars," Harry told him and Sam nodded dazedly.

"Unicorns exist."

"Yep. Shiny pompous bastards. Ooh, look at me, I only go near virgins. Like virgins are any fun anyway," Harry muttered and Sam shot him a somewhat scandalised look, though Harry could just tell he was trying his hardest not to laugh.

* * *

**Stillwater, OK. 16th August, 2008**

Sam looked towards the door to the bathroom curiously when he heard Harry curse colourfully, then walked to the door, just as it was flung open.

"Harry?"

"Down!" Harry yelled, tackling Sam to the floor just as something in the bathroom exploded. "Damn. Never was very good at potions."

"Er..." Sam looked over Harry's shoulder to see pure white smoke start billowing out through the doorway.

"Sorry. Better open a window. Hey, you never know, we might be able to convince passerbys that there has been a new pope chosen," Harry said, sitting up to straddle Sam's hips. Sam looked from the smoke and up at Harry before he started chuckling and placed his hands on Harry's waist.

"It's alright. I don't think I've actually laughed since Dean... you know. So, I guess... Thank you. For giving me an excuse to laugh again."

"Anytime Sammy-Sam, anytime. Now, let's go shock some Catholics," Harry said with a wicked grin and Sam chuckled before getting up off the floor when Harry got off him.

"I think it only counts when it is above the Vatican," Sam pointed out and Harry looked over at him from opening the window and sulked.

"Damn. Ah, maybe people will think there's a fire or something. Now I have to make that potion again. Double damn," Harry muttered walking away from the open window and to the bathroom, Sam following him into the room and seeing a cauldron set up on the sink with a small flame burning underneath it.

"Where did you keep that? It wasn't in either of your bags," Sam said, walking over to the cauldron and watching over Harry's shoulder as Harry dumped the ruined contents down the toilet and then washed it out and started the process again.

"It _was_ in one of my bags. It's collapsible. Handy, huh?" Harry asked, moving to start cutting up roots on the small space next to the sink.

"Er... sure. What are you making this time?" Sam asked, moving back to lean against the door and watch Harry.

"Just more salve to heal cuts. I was thinking we might need it after checking out that supposed haunted house tonight," Harry told him, adding the roots one at a time to the water he had put in the cauldron, stirring it three times between each root.

"Right. Yeah, you might be right, though I'm thinking we'll probably need the bruise salve more," Sam said and Harry shot him a grin over his shoulder and pointed to the side of the bath. Sam looked and saw a pot of that very salve cooling.

"Thought of that. We should be finished with this tonight, right? What will we do after?"

"About that..."

"Well that sounds ominous," Harry muttered, dropping some petals into the cauldron and then stirring it once, watching as it turned a deep purple colour.

"No. But, well... there's this demon I was hunting before I met you..."

"Oh?"

"Lilith," Sam said and Harry stiffened and looked around at Sam.

"You want to find Lilith? Why?"

"She holds Dean's deal. I figured if I found her, I might be able to get her to bring him back," Sam admitted quietly and Harry sighed and moved to stand closer to Sam.

"Sam... Fine. At least this time I won't have to stop you from trying to make a bloody ridiculous deal to get him back," Harry muttered, shuddering at the memory and turning back to his potion, cursing under his breath and stirring it four times quickly. Of course, a small part of Harry wondered if he should tell Sam that his plan wouldn't work, the contract would just pass on to the next demon in line. Telling Sam, however, would probably lead to questions Harry did not want to answer.

"Thank you for that by the way. For stopping me I mean."

"You weren't thanking me at the time."

"No, I guess I wasn't. But I am now. So, thank you."

"It's alright. Don't make me do it again, please. Now, want to cut up some crow spleens for me?"

"Not exactly," Sam said with a disgusted look on his face as he watched Harry hold up a pot of the said spleens, which was as close as Sam ever wanted to get to the innards of any animal.

"Wimp."

"If it gets me out of cutting up spleens, then sure, if you want," Sam told him with a small smile and Harry shot a glare back at him.

* * *

**Hannibal, MO. 31st August, 2008**

"Trust a demon to choose someplace called _Hannibal_ to hide out," Harry grumbled as he and Sam made their way through the town to get to the house Lilith was supposed to be hiding out in. Sam looked over at him and snorted in amusement.

"You know, when I first watched that film, I thought all Brits were cannibals and seemed to develop this pathological fear of British people," Sam admitted prompting Harry to burst into laughter and clutch at his stomach.

"He wasn't even British! He had an American accent in it!" Harry pointed out once he had managed to control his laughter.

"So? Dean told me that Anthony Hopkins was British and that Hannibal was based on him, which was why he played the role!" Sam defended, though he was grinning.

"Why would they let a cannibal play a role in a film? A _known_ cannibal at that!"

"I was ten! Dean was my hero and I believed everything he said!"

"Aw! You were kind of stupid when you were a kid, weren't you?"

"Oh shut up. Let's go see if Lilith is still there."

"Sam? If she is, what do we do? I mean, she's one bad ass demon and well, what the hell do we do? _And_ how do we know in the first place? She's not exactly going to say 'here I am, exorcise me!' now, is she? How can we trust that demon that told us she was here?" Harry asked as they nearer the house.

"I have a knife that kills demons in answer to your first question and... I don't actually know how to find out if it's Lilith or not, either way, it's a big possibility that there's someone being possessed in that house, so we stop it."

"What even made you think it _was_ her?"

"It's supposedly a child that is possessed, and Lilith prefers to possess little girls. I went by that. If it's not Lilith, then we can ask the demon if it knows where she is."

"Fine. This idea sucks, you do know that, right? I mean the whole thing. Finding Lilith in the first place. _How_ do you know she will give Dean up? Why _would_ she? Not to mention that this whole idea means we have to stab a young child. I may not like children, but I don't want to be wanted by the police for murder of one. It would put a big crimp in both my jobs."

"You don't do prostitution anymore." Sam pointed out and Harry shot him a glare.

"It's _still_ killing a child! Don't try to change the subject."

"I know, but what do you want to do Harry? We can't let this child continue to be possessed."

"We exorcise her. Even if it _is_ Lilith. We can always find out where she fled to."

"But she always possesses children! How are we gonna kill her if you don't want to kill a child?!"

"Sam! What the hell has happened to you? Two months ago you balked at the thought of killing an adult human and now you want to kill a child? Seriously, I really think this idea is shit. You're determination to kill Lilith and get Dean back is making you act insane! I don't know if I like this you."

"Harry!"

"No, Sam! You want to kill a child! I don't like that idea. If you are going to continue on that train then I think I would like to be dropped off at the nearest train station and I'll find my way back to San Diego. I'm sure I can apologise to my pimp and ask for my job back," Harry lied, he had no intention of failing his task, not just because doing so would pretty much be signing his soul to a one way journey to Hell.

"Harry... I'm sorry alright? I just... I _need_ to see her dead."

"Well your need should stop. I get that you want revenge for what she has done to Dean but we are going to either have to find another way to do that, or hope she soon possesses an adult."

"Alright, fine. We'll do it your way," Sam finally muttered after an agonising five minute silence in which Harry actually wondered if Sam _would_ take him to a train station.

"Thank you. Would it not be alright if she was just sent back to Hell?" Harry asked him quietly, stepping nearer to Sam and grabbing hold of his hand.

"Not really. I want her dead, Harry."

"Fine, then we either find another way to do that, or we wait until she possesses an adult."

"What if she doesn't? What if she never possesses an adult?"

"Then we kill a child," Harry told him and Sam shot him a somewhat surprised but grateful look.

"So shall we find out if this demon is Lilith or not?"

"That's why we're here is it not?"

* * *

**Pontiac, IL. 18th September, 2008**

"Well if that demon was right, then Lilith is here _and_ she's possessing an adult. We just need to find out which adult she is possessing out of all the damned demons we followed here. Shouldn't be too hard, right?" Harry asked as they walked into their motel room, Harry walking over to the bed and throwing himself onto it.

"Well, we will need to ask around a bit, find out if there is anyone that has been acting particularly strange. I'll also check the past newspapers to see if there has been any strange events recently, seeing as you blew up my laptop last time you touched it."

"I bought you a new one! A _better_ one, may I add, stop whinging."

"Alright and it is a very nice laptop, thank you. Now, I'm gonna take a shower, be good."

"Be good? What the hell do you think I am gonna do?"

"I don't even want to know!" Sam called over his shoulder going into the bathroom and closing the door just as Harry lobbed his shoe at him, the shoe hitting the door and Sam laughing loudly on the other side.

Harry sighed and looked up at the ceiling before sitting up and getting off the bed, grabbing his weapon bag from by the door to take over to the bed. Harry almost dropped his bag in shock when he turned around and saw Ardifiel standing behind him. Harry shot a nervous glance in the direction of the bathroom before looking back at the angel in front of him.

"Are you insane? Sam's only in the shower!" Harry hissed at him angrily but Ardifiel just raised an eyebrow at him.

"I came to inform you that Dean has gotten out of hell." Ardifiel told him and Harry actually did drop his bag this time and looked at the angel in shock.

"What? How? When?" Harry whispered, shooting an anxious glance over at the door to the bathroom.

"About fifteen minutes ago."

"How long do you think we have until Dean finds out where Sam is and comes to him?"

"You have about two days at the most."

"Do I leave? Do I leave Sam as soon as Dean comes?"

"You can't. That is not part of the deal. You must stay with Sam Winchester," Ardifiel told him and Harry dropped his head.

"But Dean won't trust me. If he finds out what I can do and who I am in contact with then he'll kill me."

"Dean will not kill you. Harry, you are not allowed to tell anyone who or what Castiel is until he shows himself to them," Ardifiel told him firmly.

"Okay. I'm not really seeing a situation where I will tell them I even know of someone called Castiel anyway."

"If you do tell them, it will be up to Castiel as to what your punishment will be. Do you understand? Consider keeping Castiel's identity as another mission from me," Ardifiel told him and Harry nodded his acceptance.

"Alright. Understood. But Ardy, what if my life _is_ endangered by Dean. Do you actually want me to die just so that I won't leave Sam?"

"No, should you honestly feel that your life is in danger from Dean, then I want you to leave but stay within a close distance to Sam so that you can step in to stop Ruby from getting to Sam. Should you get the chance use that knife to kill her. Do not trust her, Harry. No matter what she or Sam says to convince you otherwise, do not trust her."

"Got it. I'll make sure to stay in contact with Sam as well, if I have to leave. For the record though, I don't want to leave him," Harry told him, then they both turned to face the bathroom when they heard the shower get turned off. "Thank you for the advanced warning Ardifiel." Harry told the angel even as Ardifiel disappeared from the room and Sam exited the bathroom in a towel.

"Hey, are you alright Harry?"

"Yeah. You just going to stand there half-naked all day?" Harry asked with a smirk and a leer at Sam's body, stalking over to him and running his hands over Sam's chest.

"Hmm, I think I might," Sam told him with a grin and Harry grinned back at him and then wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and stood on his tiptoes to brush his lips against Sam's.

"How about you lose the towel?" Harry suggested with a mischievous look in his eyes. Sam chuckled softly and then moved his hands to push Harry onto the bed and moving to stand between his legs.

"What incentive do I have to lose the towel?" Sam asked him, looking equally as mischievous as he looked down at Harry, who was lying on his back on the bed.

"You need an incentive? Damn, I'm losing my touch, maybe I should get a few clients and touch up my skills. Can't have a prostitute not knowing how to bed someone, especially when that someone is their partner," Harry said with a mock horrified look on his face and Sam scowled, climbing on top of Harry and resting their foreheads together.

"I'm not sure I like that idea, Harry. I don't _want_ to share you with anyone," Sam said before he closed the distance between them and kissed Harry possessively. Harry moaned into the kiss and then ran his hands down Sam's back and removed the towel, which made Sam pull back from the kiss.

"Sam! Stop being mean!" Harry whined, running his hands back up Sam's back and running them through his hair. Sam grinned at him and bent down to kiss Harry's neck before he stood up. "Sam..."

"You're far too over dressed for this, you know. I thought you were a seasoned pro. Maybe you _should_ go back for training purposes," Sam told him with a smirk and Harry smirked back at him, which made Sam drop the smirk and look at him warily.

"You know... there are some people out there that pay really good money for someone to watch them. We could go into business together. Ooh! You could be my pimp!" Harry exclaimed with a wide grin, tugging his t-shirt off and then running his hands slowly down his chest, coming to a stop just above his jeans and grinning at Sam's lust-filled gaze.

"How would I be your pimp?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes off of Harry's hands.

"You're actually considering it? You have to be kidding me. No, I refuse to have you as my pimp. For one, you wouldn't know what to do and for another, I'm shagging you! That is not a good thing for a pimp," Harry said, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be stripping and looking at Sam incredulously.

"I was joking. Take off your damned jeans," Sam growled and Harry laughed then finally unbuttoned his jeans and began to push them down his legs, before kicking them off and looking up at Sam. "Do you actually own any boxers?"

"Nope. You want me to buy some?" Harry asked innocently sitting up and pressing a kiss to Sam's stomach, looking up at Sam through his lashes.

"No, shift up the bed," Sam told him with a groan and Harry grinned up at him, pressed one last kiss to his stomach and then moved so that he was lying in the middle of the bed. Sam climbed onto the bed once again and moved to lie over Harry making Harry move his legs to allow Sam to lie in between them and they both moaned breathlessly when their erections brushed.

"Sam..." Harry moaned, wrapping his legs around Sam's waist and pulling him closer dragging his nails down Sam's back and running his other hand through Sam's hair as Sam kissed and licked his neck.

Sam moved back from Harry's neck and looked down at Harry, who was looking thoroughly debauched, with his head thrown back and his hair messily strewn across the pillow.

"Lube?" Sam whispered and Harry slammed his head back and cursed, making Sam raise an eyebrow at him.

"In my bag. My bag by the door," Harry groaned and Sam chuckled quietly, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Are you sure you're a seasoned pro? I mean, you did something similar when I first met you. And you were _expecting_ me to sleep with you then," Sam pointed out, grinning at Harry as he glared up at him.

"Just go fetch the damned lube," Harry grumbled, refusing to admit that he was blushing. Sam chuckled again then climbed off of Harry when Harry unwrapped his legs, and walked over to the bag, pulling out a tub of lube and walking back to the bed, still grinning.

"You'd make a really bad boy scout," Sam pointed out as he mover back to kneel between Harry's legs.

"Hey! I'm nearly _always_ prepared... When it's required of me," Harry said with a leer, moving to cross his arms above his head. Sam moved forward and dropped a kiss on the inside of Harry's leg, kissing down to his thigh then pulling away, much to Harry's disappointment.

Sam reached for the tub of lube and opened it, scooping some out on his fingers and then moving to rub against Harry's entrance, grinning when Harry moaned and pushed down on him. Sam pushed a finger inside and twisted it, thrusting it in and out in a mockery of what he would be doing in a few minutes time.

Harry clenched his hands into fist and moaned, arching his back slightly when Sam added another finger and began to scissor them, stretching Harry and pressing a kiss to Harry's knee.

"Sam, stop treating me like a virgin, we know all I'm not one," Harry growled, pushing down on Sam's fingers and gasping in pleasure when Sam added a third finger and twisted them. He looked up at Harry and grinned, pulling his fingers out and covering his penis with more lube, then moved and positioned himself and leant down to kiss Harry as he pressed into him.

Harry arched and wrapped his legs around Sam's waist, pulling Sam into him deeply and moaning as he grabbed Sam's shoulders. Sam pulled away from the kiss and slowly began to torturously thrust into Harry, making Harry cling onto him and bite onto his lip.

"Faster. Please, Sam!" Harry moaned and Sam leant down and started to kiss Harry's neck, thrusting into Harry faster, searching for Harry's prostate by changing his angle slightly. He knew he hit it when Harry pulled on his hair and cried out, eyes open wide.

Sam began to thrust into Harry faster, moving one of his hands between their bodies and wrapping his hand around Harry's erection, squeezing it gently and then beginning to stroke up and down it in time with his thrusts. Harry cried out again, tightening his legs around his waist and moved a hand to drag it down Sam's back.

"Sam!" Harry cried as he threw his head back at came, tugging Sam down to kiss him sloppily as he clenched around Sam's penis. Sam groaned into Harry's mouth and his hips jerked as he climaxed inside of Harry. He moved his head to rest in the crook of Harry's neck, breathing heavily, then moved off of Harry and pulled Harry to his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to Harry lips before closing his eyes.

Harry looked at Sam's face, tracing over his nose and his lips with his eyes, bringing up his hand to twist a lock of hair around it. He smiled softly when Sam's breathing began to deepen.

"I can't help but wonder if that was the last time, Sammy-Sam. I hope not, but we'll soon be getting a visitor that will change everything," Harry whispered, running his hand through Sam's hair gently and then leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Sam's lips. Harry then moved closer to Sam and closed his eyes, falling asleep next to Sam for what he hoped wasn't the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - The main change in this chapter is that Harry and Ardifiel have a chat in which Ardy tells Harry a bit about himself and the angels. And the workings of Heaven. He also mentions quite a bit about Gabriel and how most of Heaven believe him to be dead. He mentions Raphael and Michael as well, though only to tell Harry that he wasn't all that close to them and that none of the Archangels ever got over Lucifer falling. He also told Harry that Gabriel was his mentor. No other major changes other than that though.
> 
> Word of the Chapter: Cherophobia - the fear that when you are happy, something bad will happen soon. (Pretty much how Sam feels 24/7)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - So this is the new prologue for Confessions. Yay. Nope, I have no idea what possessed me to rewrite this, just that there were a few things about the original version that I wasn't happy with anymore and for some reason, I got the urge to go back to it again. So here it Is. If there's anything you think I should change or add to this version, then by all means, let me know!
> 
> (And yes, Gabriel is now in this version because, you know, that was the main thing I no longer liked about the original. Lol. That guy needs more air time.)
> 
> Oh! And because my fact of the chapter was fairly well recieved on Bitter Hug, I figured I'd do something similar here except not facts! This is going to have weird and relatively obscure word of the chapter! *cheers and throw glitter in the air* Yay!
> 
> So Word of the Chapter: Niblings - which is basically the word to use for nieces and nephews. Ain't it cute! Somehow I find 'niblings' cute but not 'siblings'... maybe because my sibling is Zac and in no way is he cute or adorable. Annoying is a better word for him... Though my youngest niece is terrifying but kinda cute with it.


End file.
